My Father's Shadow, Part 2
by MisterEWriter
Summary: This is a continuation of my story, My Father's Shadow, so please, if you have not read that story I suggest you read it first in order to understand the back story and what has taken place thus far. Thanks. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As it turns out, I am able to post this much earlier than I anticipated. Training is going very well, but I have been given more downtime than originally expected. :-) I am hoping to post chapters at least once a month until I leave training at the end of August. For all of you have read part 1 of this story, thank you for your patience as I deal with RL obligations; you are the best readers ever! As always, please read and review with your likes/dislikes, comments, suggestions, etc. **

* * *

As he loaded the rifle – his, not his father's – and pistol into their respective cases, Steve glanced at his daughter, who was sitting on the edge of the open truck bed, downing a bottle of water. They had just completed two whole hours at the gun range, having spent an hour working with the rifle and another hour with the pistol. Somehow Alex had managed to impress him again with how remarkably well she had done shooting – something she chalked up to two years of playing paintball with her friends. Not all of her shots were on or even close to being on target – in fact, several missed the target entirely thanks to the wind – but, overall, she had the correct form, perfect patience, and was very relaxed. She had listened to his instructions – first about gun safety, then about shooting – and had followed his directions to a tee. Despite not being on the central mass of the target, her shots were well grouped and, with a little bit more practice, he had no doubt she could become a skilled markswoman. Throughout the two hours, he still had found himself very surprised that a) she actually wanted to learn how to shoot a gun and b) that she hadn't gotten annoyed at the in-depth, lengthy lecture on gun safety that she had already heard multiple times before – from an early age he had instructed her on the importance of staying away from his guns as well as to never point a gun at anyone just in case it was loaded. "So, which did you like better?"

"The pistol is easier to shoot," Alex said, shrugging, as she finished the water in the bottle. "But I think I like the rifle more."

"Really?" Steve asked, snapping shut the rifle case. "How come?"

She tossed the bottle at a trash can at the edge of the parking lot. When it hit the rim and bounced off, she jumped off the truck bed to go pick it up. Dropping it into the open can, she turned to face him. "Just do." That wasn't quite the reason why but it's all he was going to hear from her.

His gut told him she was holding something back. Something like the fact that the pistol reminded her of being pistol whipped when she was kidnapped. He decided not to push her for more; he had, after all, promised her to be patient when it came to talking about certain topics. Besides, they were having a great day – they spent the morning running to the top of Koko Crater Stairs before heading to the range – and she was happy. Well, at least for the most part. "Alright, well, you ready to head to the North Shore?"

"Yep," she answered, taking the five steps towards him. She reached him as he turned back around after closing the truck bed.

He should be used to it by now, her tendency to hug him out-of-the-blue for no apparent reason, but it still surprised him when she threw her arms around him. In the four years between his mother's death and Alex's birth he had hated hugs – he hadn't even hug his father at the airport that day he and Mary got shipped off to the mainland and he rarely had hugged Cindy outside the privacy of the bedroom – but becoming a father had changed that. To this day, there was nothing better than holding his daughter in his arms; their embrace expressing the unconditional love he had for her. He dreaded the day, probably not too far off, when Alex decided that she was too old and would stop hugging him spontaneously. Until then he would enjoy her sweetness and hugs.

He never minded when she all of a sudden decided to hug him, but that didn't lessen his curiosity any. He kissed the top of her head and asked, "What's this for?"

Alex laughed into his chest. "Because you're my Dad and I love you and we haven't seen very much of each other this week _and_ for today." She pulled back a little to look up at him. "I think the whole father-daughter date thing is your second best idea ever."

Steve returned her smile. "Second best? What's the first?"

She settled her head back against him, her voice taking on a serious tone. "Fighting for me."

Later that evening, after numerous other conversations he would have with her, he would realize the full impact of her comment. It wasn't just about him fighting for custody. It was about her realizing that he had devoted the last fourteen years of his life fighting forher – through his job as a Seal he had been fighting to make the world better for her; he had searched relentlessly for her when she was missing; he had called Cindy out for hurting her; he had raised her to be respectful, responsible, and an overall good citizen; everything he had done thus far as her father – and he was overjoyed that she recognized just how much he did for her out of love.

* * *

"Talk to me about school," he said, picking up the bottle of root beer from the table. Work had been insane the last week – Alex's first week of high school – and, as a result, he had barely seen her, let alone talk to her all week. After that first day, thanks to his schedule, Alex had ridden her bike to school in the mornings and, by the time he had gotten home at night she was either in bed or climbing the stairs on her way to bed. That had left very little time for them to chat or connect; he was really happy he had suggested their date days. Today so far their talk had consisted of running, her upcoming tryouts for the cross-country team, and the mechanics of shooting a gun. Now, as they sat in a booth overlooking the water at Shark's Cove Grill, he wanted to hear all those details about her first week of school that she had not been able to tell him in the rushed phone calls to her after the school day was over.

"It's school, Dad," she said, her eyes focused behind him on a little girl with her mother seated a few tables away. "Not much to tell." That wasn't entirely true. There had been a lot of things she had wanted to tell him over the last week – about her teachers and course content; about some of her new classmates; how much fun Naval ROTC would be; how Josh was in all but two of her classes; the upcoming cross country tryouts; and more – but she wasn't really in the mood to talk about school right now.

She was distracted – she had turned that way during their drive here – and was less forthcoming than was normal for her. Glancing over his right shoulder he saw the source of her current physical distraction; he understood it. Turning back to face her, he reached out and touched her hand which rested on the tabletop. When she looked at him, he said, "I want to hear all about your first week of school. Your teachers. Any new friends. Anything. Everything."

She thought for a few moments as she glanced once again at the little blonde girl – no more than five years old – laughing with her mother. That brought back so many memories from when she was little, from that time before all she did was disappoint her mom. "Josh and I are chemistry lab partners."

"How'd that happen?" Steve asked her, eyeing her carefully. When he was in junior high and high school, lab partners were assigned alphabetically. He had always – from seventh grade to junior year until he went to California – been partnered with slacker and stoner Tommy McFarland. Alex's lack of an immediate response made him want to talk about what she was feeling right now as she watched the mom and daughter seated behind him. He wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling about Cindy but he had promised to be patient. He owed it to her to keep that promise no matter how much his curiosity was killing him.

Finally she answered, actually meeting his gaze this time. "I think it's probably because we're the only two freshmen in the class." She smiled at him. "It's cool because Josh has the same type of work ethic that I do; we'll make good partners."

"I'm sure," Steve replied, forcing himself, once again, to not panic about the fact that his daughter would be spending even more one-on-one time with Josh Sullivan, the boy who, he felt, she spent more than enough time with already and who she hugged way too often for his liking. "What else?"

She shrugged. "I met one of the French teachers yesterday." She understood why the confused look appeared on his face – she was not taking French in school – so she explained, "We talked for awhile and then she told me that I could take the AP exam in the spring with her students even though I'm not in her class."

"That's great!" Steve exclaimed. "That's –"

"Did you know that they offer a study abroad program for four weeks in the summer?" She interrupted as excitement at the prospect of possibly traveling to Paris rose to the surface.

"I did actually," Steve admitted. He had found out that particular detail when he had first gone to the school to pick up brochures and to inquire about their academic and athletic programs. He had just kept that piece of information to himself; he had not wanted Alex's school decision to be swayed by a potential trip to Paris.

"Would you let me go?"

Steve nodded. "Of course I would but I think I'd be most comfortable with you going the summer after your junior year." Even then he wasn't sure he would be ready to send her off to a foreign country for four weeks without him. He would have to deal with that particular concern when that time came.

"Cool." Taking a drink of the water, she glanced back over her dad's shoulder. Finally, she asked, "You hate her, don't you?"

Steve choked on his drink. It was not just because of what she said; she had a tendency of bringing important, sensitive discussions up when they were out in public. Coughing, he asked, "What?"

"Mom," she answered needlessly. "You hate her for what she did. You hate her for treating you like shit and for lying about you and for making the choice to stop being my mom."

"First, watch your mouth," he lectured. He really needed to come up with a new punishment for when she cursed; confiscating her phone and yelling at her just did not seem to work. Maybe he would have to resort back to those "character building" exercises he had used only a few weeks ago; that particular punishment seemed to have struck a chord with her. "And second, it doesn't matter what I think about your Mom; what is more important is how you feel about her."

"It matters to me," she stated, locking eyes with him.

"Come here," he said, sliding over on his side of the booth. "Come over here," he repeated when she gave him a questioning look. When she was seated next to him, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I need you to understand something. I need you to know that, no matter what has happened between your Mom and me, a part of me will always love her." He kissed her on the head and then locked eyes again with her. "She gave me you, Alex. That trumps anything else that has gone on between us. I love her because she gave me you."

"Okay." She thought about what he said and she understood what he was saying. But something else didn't make sense. "Then why does mom hate you? I mean, you helped make me too but that didn't stop her from hating you."

"I don't know, Sweetheart," he told her. Really, he didn't. He didn't understand Cindy at all. Not anymore. "Your mom –"

He was interrupted by the waitress who chose that moment to deliver their food: a teriyaki chicken sandwich with a grilled pineapple slice for Alex and Tri Tip Steak Skewer for him. Thanking the waitress, Alex stayed rooted in place next to him, reaching across the table to bring her water cup closer. Halfway into her sandwich, she finally spoke again. "I was mad at her that night – at the ferry station – but then the next day all I felt was relief."

"Relief?" He asked, setting his half-eaten skewer down and looking at her.

"Yeah," she said, reaching for the water glass with her free hand while the other hand still held her sandwich. "We can't hurt each other anymore."

He hated knowing that she was still harboring so much guilt about her relationship with her mother. She was the child; Cindy was the parent and the only guilty party. He wanted to tell Alex none of it was her fault – that she should not blame herself for anything negative that had happened with her mother – but he knew better than to do that. She did not like people telling her how she should feel and he understood that completely. He had to let her work through her feelings by herself; he only hoped she wouldn't hold onto that sense of guilt for too long. Guilt, after all, had a way of eating at a person until all it does is torture the soul it inhabits. "And what are you feeling now?"

"Nothing," she said, returning the glass to its spot on the table and then setting down her sandwich. With a disappointed sigh, she continued, "Nothing at all; I'm completely numb."

"It's been a rough couple of months, Alex," he gently reminded her. That was putting it very mildly. Within a week of arriving on the island, she had been kidnapped by Wo Fat, being forced to survive in the jungle overnight by herself and then – with numerous injuries – traverse the often rough terrain as she made her way to safety. Then, there had been the aftermath of her kidnapping – the mood swings; anger; appointments with a counselor who had ended up doing very little to help her; Five-0 having to handle a case involving the death of one her kidnappers. Then there had been the difficulties of his and Alex's relationship – her anger at him over something Alex had been lied to about – and her deep felt grief over her grandfather's murder. The afternoon of the custody hearing when Cindy had stopped fighting him for their daughter; she had walked straight out of the courtroom without saying goodbye to Alex. The final straw had been less than two weeks ago when Cindy had informed them that she was relinquishing her maternal rights. For Alex to be numb was perfectly understandable. "It's okay to not feel anything sometimes."

"I'm not sure it is, Dad," she admitted to him. She shrugged. "It's just…" she trailed off as she gave into a sigh. She didn't really know how to explain it. Looking at him, she observed, "People think you are incapable of feeling emotion because of how often you get that stoic expression on your face." She tilted her head to the side, giving him a slight smirk. "I mean, there is the exception of your Aneurysm Face."

Not sure if that was a question or not, he just nodded. He was aware of the fact that his face rarely betrayed any emotion. He had been that way even before he became a Seal.

"But I know different," she told him. "Your face isn't like that because you feel nothing; it's the opposite. When your face gets like that, it's your way of hiding that you feel _everything_." Toying with the dog tags that hung around her neck, she said, "Grandpa was kinda the same way even if you don't realize it." She shrugged again. "I know my face shows more emotion than yours does most of the time. I have more McGarrett in me than I do Aberdeen though and, because of that, I'm used to always feeling something; some kind of emotion. Not feeling anything at all makes me feel empty."

* * *

"Can you please stop looking at me?" Ever since they got in the truck to head back home, her dad had been paying very little attention to the road because his gaze had, instead, been concentrated on her. "You're gonna drive off the road and I'll either die in a fiery, horrible crash or I'll be maimed for life."

Her comment caused him to wince but his gaze did return to its' rightful place on the road. Truth be told, he was concerned about her. She had sworn at lunchtime that she was feeling absolutely nothing in regards to what Cindy had done not even three weeks ago. Yet, based on comments made over their meal, he sensed that she really was feeling _something_, even if she didn't realize it. "I'm allowed to look at you."

"Who says?"

"I do," he replied, stealing another quick glance in her direction. She was still sitting with her head resting in her hand, arm braced against the window, and the look on her face told him she was annoyed with him. "You're my daughter; I'm allowed you to look at you if I want to." When she mumbled something under her breath, he asked, "What?"

"Nothing," she breathed out in a lie. They had had such a great day running to the top of the Koko Crater stairs and learning how to shoot the guns. Their father-daughter date had been going so well and then they went to lunch, where they had been seated by two people at a table that reminded her of everything she had once shared with her mom, those things she would never share with her mom again. It had brought back a lot of memories but she had been honest when she had told him that she was numb. She was truly numb when it came to thinking about her mother's decision to terminate her parental rights and she hated not feeling anything. She would rather feel pain all the time than feel nothing at all.

"Alex –"

"You still want to hear about school?" She didn't care if she was interrupting him; she refused to talk about her Mom and she refused to talk about her feelings – or lack of feelings – with him anymore.

Steve swallowed a sigh. "Of course I do."

"Okay," she said, turning slightly in her seat towards him. Looking at him for the first time since getting in the truck, she said, "My teachers seem really great so far. I think I'm going to love History of Hawaii – we have a course project and I was thinking maybe I could find someone to interview or maybe we could go visit some more cultural sites."

Steve smiled at her enthusiasm; he loved how much she loved history. She had always, even from a very young age, been particularly inquisitive, wanting to know everything she could about every topic imaginable, especially about how everything came into existence. His precocious daughter, at the age of three and a half, had inquired as to how and when the Navy started and when the aircraft carriers in the harbor were made. At the age of four she had asked her grandfather, during one of his visits, all about Hawaii and how it became a state and about when their own family had moved there. After she had moved to Seattle, Steve's phone conversations with her would consist of multiple questions from her that mostly had some sort of historical significance to them. During his visits to see her, he would take her to the library – he had always encouraged reading from an early age – where she would ask him to help her find history books, ranging anywhere from the founding of the United States, Imperial China, Ancient Rome, Ancient Egypt, the Civil War, Slavery, both World Wars, and a multitude of other topics. Most of those she had inquired about even before her classes in school had touched upon those subjects and, when he had asked her how she knew about those events, she had said she learned about them from watching the History Channel. As a result of her age many times he had had to provide her with "dummied down" versions – there was no way he was going to share with her the violent details of events that had occurred – especially when she was very young.

In regards to her school project, he had the perfect person in mind that she could interview, if that was the project she decided to go with. "I know someone who I'm sure could help you with that project."

"Really? Who?"

"His name is Mamo," Steve answered. "He taught Mary and me to surf and we've stayed in touch over the years. He now runs a historical society that reenacts the battles of King Kamehameha."

"That's cool," she replied, a smile dancing across her features. "Do you think he'd want to help me? I mean, I don't really know all the details of the project just yet."

"I think he would love to help you," he assured her. Actually, he _knew_ Mamo would be more than willing to help Alex out with any assignment. He had wanted to introduce the two of them to each other anyway. "I'll give him a call next week and see if we can meet up with him."

"Awesome," she replied. Her dad's old teacher sounded like a great candidate to interview, especially since he was in charge of a Hawaiian historical society. "Were you good at Chemistry?"

Steve nodded. "Pretty good." He glanced at her. "Why?"

Alex shrugged. "I flipped through the textbook. Looks kinda boring." Catching his eye, she said, "I might need your help with it."

He understood what she didn't say. He knew she had the intellectual capability to grasp even the most difficult of high school classes, but when she was bored she was less motivated to pay attention or study. "That's fine. I'm more than happy to help you with your homework." He caught something flash in her eyes; he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly.

She diverted her eyes to the scenery outside her window. Up until now, for the most part, she had had to navigate schooling and homework all by herself. She couldn't remember a time when her mom had actually sat down to assist her with homework. In fact, she couldn't remember a time when her mom had even asked her what she was learning in school. It wasn't until now that she remembered all those times during her young childhood when her dad – either while visiting her or while she visited him – had sat down with her at the dining room table and did her homework with her. It wasn't until she heard his comment that she remembered how he had made learning fun by playing math games or taking field trips to the science museum or visiting historical sites that somehow related to whatever she had been learning at the time. She had forgotten all about those times – it had been many long years since then – and it made her feel a mixture of emotions. She felt grateful for having a dad who had spent time doing homework with her; a dad who enjoyed allowing her to explore her own likes and interests. Yet, at the same time, she felt a twinge of pain for having a mom who had never done those things with her, who would never again have the chance to do those things with her. _So much for not feeling anything._

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice brought her out of her reverie. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired," she replied, only fibbing a little. Or at least that's what she told herself.

He knew she wasn't being completely honest with him but, just this once, he allowed it to slide. "So, you've told me about History and Chemistry. How do you think the rest of your classes will be?"

She shrugged. "English, Math, and my Computer class should be a breeze. Japanese sounds tough but it will be cool to learn another language. ROTC should be awesome."

Steve smiled as he turned off the main road leading to the house. "We never did talk about why you decided to take ROTC."

She shrugged again. "Sounded like fun, I guess. Besides, the Navy did great things for you and Grandpa and every other male in our family. Even though I'm a girl, I kinda have a reputation to uphold."

"You don't have to prove anything to me, Alex," he told her, sensing there was more to her comment than she was letting on. "You don't have to express interest in the Navy just because of me or Grandpa."

"I'm not," she firmly stated. "Navy's in my blood, Dad. Besides, it doesn't mean I'm going to join the Navy because, frankly, being on a boat for that long at one time would be boring. I don't know how Catherine does it."

Steve couldn't help it; he laughed. Alex definitely would find being stuck on an aircraft carrier or battleship for months on end boring. Heck, she had a hard enough time being indoors for more than two hours at a time on most days; she simply preferred being outside. He stopped laughing when his daughter, giving him a smirk, said, "On second thought, if I did work on an aircraft carrier I would be around a bunch of guys. _Cute_ guys."

Steve groaned inwardly as he turned onto their street. "Do you get some sort of satisfaction out of doing that to me?"

"Doing what?" she asked, pasting on that innocent grin of hers that was anything but innocent.

"You know what."

With a put-upon sigh, she replied, "Relax, Dad. It's not like I told you about all the cute guys at school." Seeing the grimace appear on his face, she took off her seatbelt as he pulled into the driveway. Then, she smirked again and, teasingly, said, "Because there are _a lot _of them, especially the upperclassmen in my classes."

Turning off the car, he muttered, "Should have sent you to an all-girls school."

* * *

"Thanks for today," Alex said, setting down her fork and sitting back in her chair. After they had arrived home earlier, they had gone down to the beach in the backyard where her Dad had given her another mini lesson in surfing. She would soon start taking surf lessons from Kono once a week and he had wanted her to have better working knowledge about the basic mechanics of the sport. Afterwards, they had headed inside the house to shower and change. Then, together, they cooked a vegetarian lasagna recipe that had been recommended to them by a friendly, elderly woman at the grocery store last weekend. Once it was ready, they headed out to the lanai to enjoy their meal. "I really like when we get to spend time together."

Steve smiled at his daughter. "I like when we spend time together, too." Setting his napkin down on top of his plate, he continued, "In fact, it's my favorite thing to do – spend time with you." He lost his smile when his daughter's face fell at his comment. When her bottom lip began to quiver, he barely had any time to react before she started to cry. Moving around the table, he claimed the seat immediately to the left of his daughter. "Alex, Sweetheart," he murmured, wrapping his arm around her.

She got up and climbed into his lap, settling herself sideways across his legs, curled up against his chest. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting her tears fall more freely until they turned into quiet sobs. Her dad loved being with her; he loved having her around. Her Mom hated her; it was that simple.

Steve hated moments like this when his daughter was hurting so much that she resorted back to that childlike state. At the same time, he loved the opportunity to be there for her – to comfort her, to help wash away the pain and guilt, to love her. He just held his daughter as she cried, his arms wrapped around her in a tight hug until, finally, she mumbled, "Mom, she…" She started to hiccup before simply stating, "It hurts."

"I know it does," Steve said, knowing that nothing he could say would ever take away her pain. What Cindy had done to their daughter caused a pain in Alex's heart that might not ever go away; for the rest of her life Alex would have to live with the knowledge that her own mother had chosen to walk away from her for good. All Steve could do was ensure that Alex knew how much she was loved, specifically by him but also by everyone else in her life: Danny, Chin, Kono, Lori, Kamekona, the Sullivan's, the Boyer's, Joe, Mary, Catherine; the list was endless. All he could do was love her and be there for her whenever she needed him; he hoped that, in the end, his unconditional love would be enough.

Lifting her head, she pulled back and looked at him. "I should have hugged her goodbye." Sniffling, she ran a hand across her teary eyes. "I ran out without saying goodbye. I didn't – maybe if I –"

Brushing his thumb across her cheek, he wiped away the tears he found there. "No, Sweetheart," he interrupted gently. He knew exactly what she had planned on saying. "This wouldn't hurt any less if you had said goodbye to her. You –"

"But –"

Steve shook his head. "What your Mom did… it was hurtful. More hurtful than I can imagine." He watched as her eyes filled with tears again. "I am so sorry, Alex. I wish I could take all of your pain away. I want to take it all away but I can't. I'm sorry, Sweetheart."

"Can we just stop talking and go sit on the lounge chair and watch the sunset?" She finally asked after several minutes of relaxing under her dad's loving embrace.

An hour later, less than twenty-five minutes after the sun had dipped below the horizon, Steve sat in the lounge chair, legs straight out in front of him, arm wrapped around his sleeping daughter's shoulder. As soon as he had agreed to watch the sunset with her in silence, Alex had curled up next to him on the chair, resting her ear directly over his heart, falling asleep just after the sun had set. He really needed to pick up their abandoned dinner plates from their spot on the table and the kitchen needed to be cleaned as well – Danny would be shocked if he were to see the condition of the kitchen; it slightly resembled Danny's messy apartment – but, for now, he'd just continue watching over his hurting daughter.

They had a long road ahead of them, dealing with the aftermath of Cindy's decision to walk out of their lives – out of Alex's life – for eternity without so much as a second thought. As if things hadn't been hard enough on Alex over the last few months, she now had to deal with being hurt by the one person who should never have hurt her. He undoubtedly believed that Alex had been successfully dealing with having been kidnapped – she still had occasional nightmares and flashbacks, as was to be expected – but he wasn't sure it would be as easy for her to deal with what her mother had done to her. He was worried about his daughter. He was afraid of what effect Cindy's decision would have on Alex. He just wanted his little girl to be happy, guilt-free, and to know that she is loved unconditionally. He placed a soft kiss to the top of her head, leaving his chin resting there as he pulled her closer, hoping that, even in sleep, she could feel how much he loved her and that she wasn't alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to a mild injury and a relaxed training schedule for a couple of days, I was able to finish this chapter sooner than expected. Chapter 3 is also already in the works so this story might be getting posted sooner than anticipated. :-) **

**Anyways, thank you for the reviews I have received so far. Part 1 of this story was 28 chapters long and I received 102 reviews; I would love it if I received even more this time around :-) Reviews (good, bad, indifferent) really help keep a writer motivated. That said, even if you have not reviewed, I appreciate all of you who are reading and have added this to your story alerts, favorite stories, and author alerts. **

**Disclaimer: This chapter references Episode 2.05 Ma'ema'e. The credit for anything that sounds familiar belongs strictly to the incredible CBS team who wrote and produced that episode. The wonderful characters of Steve McGarrett, Chin Ho Kelly, Lori Weston, Kono Kalakaua, and Danny Williams all belong to CBS; I just borrow them. **

**Disclaimer 2: Alexandra McGarrett, Josh Sullivan, and any others I introduce in my story belong to me; please ask permission if you want to borrow them. Thanks! :-)  
**

* * *

"In honor of Kono being back with us," Steve said, setting a six-pack of root beer on the conference room table. "Let's open a cold one." The reunited Five-0 team members – Steve, Chin, Danny, and Kono – plus the addition of Lori, each reached for a bottle, popping off the bottle cops and taking a drink.

"Thanks, Boss," Kono replied, tipping her bottle in Steve's direction. The secret she had been living with for several months – being undercover with Internal Affairs – had finally been shared with the team thanks to Five-0 picking up a case involving the murder of a University of Hawaii volleyball coach who, coincidentally, was having an affair with the wife of a man who owed money to the corrupt cops Kono had been working with. After going back undercover to save the innocent woman, Kono, accompanied by the woman and the corrupt cops, had visited the bank to get the money. Gunfire erupted, the corrupt cops were taken down, and Kono received a wound to her arm but, at the end of the day, she was able to rejoin Five-0. All things considered, it was beyond great to be back with Five-0.

"To Kono," Danny said, raising his bottle.

"To Kono," the rest of the team replied before they all clanked their bottles together and took another long drink of the beverage. "Welcome back, 'Cuz." Chin said giving her a hug before Danny moved in to also hug her.

"Kono!" Alex's voice rang through the conference room as she stepped through the doorway, dropping her backpack onto the floor. Bypassing her dad, who was half-sitting on the edge of the table, she embraced Kono, mindful of the bandage on her arm. Stepping back, she asked, "Does this mean you're back for good?"

"Fully reinstated."

Kono's confirmation brought a grin to Alex's face. Even though they had all spent a little bit of time with Kono after her dismissal from the force, 5-0 had just not been the same without her. Turning to her father, the teenager suggested, "Dad, you should take everyone out for dinner to celebrate the team being back together."

"I think that's a great idea, Steven," Danny says, shooting a gracious smile towards the younger McGarrett. Danny would have suggested the idea to Steve himself; however, Steve was a bit more receptive to his daughter's requests, especially when she gave him that smile of hers. Danny's sentiments were echoed by the rest of the team. Shooting his daughter a look, Steve had no choice but to comply.

"How does seven o'clock at the Hilton Hawaiian Village sound?" The team agreed that the place and time, only a couple of hours from now, would be great.

As the team finished off their drinks, Danny asked, "This isn't going to be one of those times you 'forget' your wallet, will it, Steve?"

Before her dad could answer, Alex interjected, "Don't worry, Uncle Danny. If that's really a concern I can just klepto his wallet again." Her comment caused everyone to laugh; they remembered that day three months ago when Alex had pick-pocketed Steve's wallet without him having been any the wiser. Everyone laughed, that is, except her father. Getting a look from him, she said, "Kidding, Dad. I'm just kidding." With that, she gave him that smile that had always melted his heart and had, on multiple occasions, made him change his mind about lecturing or punishing her. When she gave him that smile he turned into a big softie and she knew it. She certainly knew how to use it to her advantage, too.

Steve shook his head, slightly amused at how well his daughter knew him, and gave into the urge to smile. He bid goodbye to Lori, Chin and Kono who were heading out of the room and then, remembering the significance of today for his daughter, he asked, "So am I now the proud father of the best cross-country runner in the state of Hawaii?" Her cross-country tryouts had taken place that afternoon, immediately after school had let out for the day, but he was surprised that she was finished with them already. He had not expected to see her for another half an hour at the earliest.

"No," Alex said, her face falling in pretend disappointment.

"What?" Steve and Danny both asked, incredulous. There was absolutely no way Alex had not made the team; the girl had been born to run.

A strand of hair falling over her left eye, she said, "You're not the dad of the best runner in the state." Looking at him with a gleam in her eye, she deciding to stop teasing him, "But I did make the team after having the best time out of everyone today."

Steve jumped up from his perch on the table and pulled her into a hug. "I knew you would make the team." He kissed the top of her head. "Way to go, Sweetheart. I am so proud of you."

"Thanks," she replied when she stepped out of the hug. "I didn't run as well as I should have though."

"How fast did you run, Speedy?" Danny asked, fully aware that Alex could run a mile in just over six minutes flat. "Three miles in eighteen minutes?"

"No," Alex answered, turning so she was facing him as well as her dad. "20:18."

"That's still really good, Alex," Steve assured his daughter, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side as he kissed her on the head again. He knew it had just been a tryout but he was so damn proud of his kid. Every day he was proud of his kid.

"Yeah," Danny agreed, "that's still at least ten minutes quicker than me." Alex, sometimes, was too much like her father. They both had a tendency to hold themselves to higher expectations than was necessary. Like Steve, Alex sometimes couldn't be satisfied with her achievements. There was nothing wrong with someone constantly striving to be better but the McGarrett's sometimes went to the extreme.

Alex shrugged. "That's because you're getting old." The playful smile on her face removed any sting her comment might have caused; Danny knew she was teasing him. "I've run it faster than that before. Even ran it faster last weekend, didn't I, Dad?"

Steve's nod confirmed her statement. "You made the team, Alex. That's the important thing. I'm proud of you." He hugged her again before she pulled away to take her ringing cell phone out of her pocket. As she answered it, she smiled. Glancing at her dad, she headed out of the conference room, letting out an excited scream as she did. Reaching the door, she turned around and said, "Josh made varsity!"

* * *

"So," Steve said, glancing in his rearview mirror at the two teenagers in the backseat. "Congratulations on making varsity."

"Thanks, Mr. McGarrett," Josh replied, glancing up from the cell phone he was huddled over with Alex and meeting Steve's eyes in the mirror. "And thanks again for letting me stay with you until my dad gets back."

"It's not a problem, Josh," Steve answered, already slightly regretting his decision to allow the teenage boy to spend the night – and perhaps the next few days – at the house while Jason Sullivan was conducting a last-minute field exercise at an Army training facility located on the Big Island. Having been eavesdropping on Alex's giddy phone conversation with Josh earlier, he had been made aware that Jason had been given orders to conduct the exercise at the last minute. With Jason having successfully lined up a place for Sam to stay, Josh would be spending the night – and maybe longer – at his home alone. Steve hadn't thought twice about offering his home to the teenager but now, after seeing Josh and Alex interact with each other – hugging; smiling; whispering; sitting way too close to each other; seemingly communicating at times with only looks – he worried about whether it had been a good idea.

He was glad – grateful even – that Alex had another close friend – Alyssa and Brian both lived too far away – but it did concern him sometimes that Josh was that friend. His daughter being close friends with any boy was a cause for concern in his mind. He knew that Josh and Alex shared a special bond – especially now that Alex also knew what it was like to be abandoned by her mother – and that they seemed to understand each other better than most people but the two were just too touchy-feely at times. Not that he had ever seen Josh touch Alex inappropriately but, still, every single time he would catch them hugging or their hands brushing together as they walked closely together it bothered him. His daughter was not old enough to be that close to a boy, regardless of whether or not Josh Sullivan is a good kid.

"I doubt I'll even get a chance to play," Josh commented as he passed his cell phone over to Alex. Whatever he had shown to her on the screen caused her to laugh.

"What makes you say that?" Steve asked, forcing himself to return his focus to the highway that would take them towards the Hilton. After speaking to Jason on the phone earlier, he and Alex had left Headquarters and headed for the Sullivan house. After ensuring that Josh had all of his schoolbooks, clothes, and toothbrush they had hopped back in the truck – both kids climbed in the back, practically sitting on top of each other – to head to dinner.

"I'm third string," Josh answered, glancing out the side window. "And the starting quarterback is a senior who has never even missed a day of school in his entire life; he never gets sick or hurt. And the backup quarterback is a junior."

Steve nodded in understanding. "Are you only slotted as a quarterback?" Catching the teenager's eye in the rearview mirror, he commented, "Because you're one hell of a wide receiver, too." Steve wasn't exaggerating; Josh was one of the best high school football players he had seen in a long time.

Josh's cheeks flushed a little. "Uh, thanks, Mr. McGarrett, but I don't think I'm that great."

"You're kidding, right?" Alex spoke up, tearing her eyes away from the cell phone that had held her attention for the last few minutes. "You're the best football player I've ever seen…" she trailed off when her father raised his eyebrows at her in the mirror. "With the exception of my Dad, of course."

"Thank you, Sweetheart," Steve said, a smile dancing across his features.

Alex rolled her eyes before continuing, "You really are talented, Josh."

"Thanks," Josh replied, giving her his trademark smile that showed his near perfect white teeth and dimples. "Even still, I probably won't get much playing time."

"Well," Alex started, resting her hand on Josh's upper arm – Steve nearly drove off of the side of the road when she did; to him it was too intimate of a gesture – and shooting him an encouraging smile. "Just continue pushing hard like you did at tryouts and I bet you'll get a chance to prove to everyone how good you are."

* * *

"Everything okay, Boss?"

Steve turned his attention away from the beach to look at Kono. As he did, he noticed that Danny, the only other person at the table at the moment, was also watching him. Clearing his throat and with another brief glance towards the sand, he replied, "Yeah. Why?"

"You seem distracted," Kono observed.

"I'm fine," Steve replied, not entirely truthful. Upon arrival at the restaurant, Alex and Josh had laid claim on the far end of the table, spreading out their schoolbooks and assignments before digging into their homework. As they had worked on their chemistry and history assignments together, heads practically touching as they hunched over the table, Steve once again observed the subtle yet intimate touches that had taken place between them. And, no, he was not being a delusional, over-protective father. He had decided that he would be having another serious talk with his daughter about boys – specifically _one_ boy in particular – in the immediate future.

"You mean you're not concerned about your daughter's choice for a new best friend?" Danny asked, interpreting Steve's behavior correctly.

Steve softly glared at his partner before diverting his eyes back towards the beach where the two teenagers were standing on the shore, looking out at the water as the waves crashed over their exposed legs. Seriously, why did his daughter find it impossible to not stand so closely to Josh? Why did they have to stand so near to each other that their arms were touching? "You would be the same way, Danny, if it was Grace," he noted.

"Nope," Danny denied. "Grace isn't allowed to be friends with boys. Ever." Starting to gesture with his hands, he continued, "All you have to do is –"

"What about Sam?" Josh's little brother had become quite close to Grace ever since they had met at summer camp. It hadn't helped matters for Danny any when the two were placed in the same fourth grade classroom, too. If Steve was going to suffer because of his daughter's relationship with the oldest Sullivan boy, then he would make sure Danny was reminded of his own daughter's relationship with the youngest Sullivan.

That shut Danny up but not before he sent Steve a glare of his own. They both jerked their heads in Kono's direction when they heard her laughing. "What's so funny, Kalakaua?"

"The whole over-protective Dad thing; it's cute," Kono answered him. "Grace is nine, Danny. _Nine_." Turning her attention to Steve, she continued, "And you don't need to worry so much either." Really, Steve didn't. During their surf lesson last weekend, she and Alex had talked about a lot of things – Alex's school schedule; stories from Kono's days as a professional surfer; the Hawaiian language – to include Alex complaining about her dad's tendency to overreact every time she talked to a boy. At the time, Kono had told the teenager that her dad was just looking out for her – he was doing his job as her father – but she hadn't realized that Steve's concerns had also included Josh Sullivan. As far as Kono was concerned, it was the boys who were terrified of Steve being a cop and former SEAL that Steve had to be worried about; those were the types of boys who had less than pure intentions when it came to befriending or dating a girl. However, any boy who knew what Steve did for a living and who knew how much harm Steve was capable of inflicting upon them should any hurt come to Alex and _didn't _fear for his life; that was the kind of boy Steve did not need to worry about. Josh Sullivan was one of those boys; Steve did not need to worry about Josh ruining any part of Alex's virtue.

Steve sent her a look of disagreement. "Can we please stop talking about this? It's not why I keep looking at her." Yeah, it was a lie. He knew it, Danny knew it and he was pretty sure Kono knew it, too, which is why he was grateful for Chin and Lori returning to the table.

"You talking about Alex, brah?" Chin asked, reclaiming the vacant seat next to his cousin. "How's she doing, by the way?"

Steve sighed and sat back in his seat, his eyes roaming towards his daughter again. "She's okay; today, anyway." He finished off his beer. "She has more good days than bad." He shrugged. "I'm grateful for that but…" he shook his head. "I just – all it takes is one word and she…" He glanced around the table. "She's hurting all the time – I know she is – but she doesn't talk about it much. I don't know how to help her."

"Just keep doing what you're doing, Steve," Danny commented. "Be there for her; it's all you really can do."

"Yeah, brah," Chin agreed. "Make sure she knows it's not her fault. Keep telling her that you love her."

"That we all love her," Lori chimed in.

Kono nodded in agreement. "Make sure she knows that we're all here for her. Whenever she needs something – whenever _you_ need something – we'll be there."

"You guys aren't in this alone," Danny added, catching Kono's eye. As much as Steve would deny it – and had denied it over the last couple of days – he was equally hurting from what Cindy had done to Alex. It was just as important for Steve to know he had the support of his friends as it was for Alex to know that she was loved.

"Yeah," Steve murmured, watching as his daughter and Josh turned and started making their way back towards them. "Thanks."

* * *

A few days later, on Friday morning, Steve found himself sitting in his office, staring at the legal documents on his desk. Only twenty minutes earlier did a mail courier show up, holding an envelope, asking for Steve's signature before handing over the packet. Opening the envelope, he had pulled out a copy of the official court documents which let him know that Cindy's request for relinquishment of parental rights had been approved and finalized. As of three days ago, Cindy was no longer Alex's mother. Legally speaking, of course; she would always be Alex's mother. That last day in Seattle, when Alex's world had been titled on its' axis, he had known Cindy was serious about her intentions. One look at the letter she had typed – she had given him a copy of it to keep – and he had known it was real; he had been expecting and preparing himself for this moment. Or so he had told himself. Alex had just asked him two days ago if he had received the documents, if her mom was not her mom anymore. Seeing it on legal paper, seeing Cindy's signature as well as the signature of the approving judge had caused a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had made him want to hop on the first plane to Seattle and strangle the hell out of Cindy for what she had done to their innocent daughter.

Steve found himself constantly thinking about his daughter. So much so that yesterday, while they were driving to apprehend a suspect in their latest case, Danny had mentioned that he seemed distracted. He had finally admitted it all to Danny and, thanks to Danny's genuine understanding and willingness to talk, Steve had been able to clear his mind enough to focus on their task at hand. He just hated to see his daughter hurting so much – even if she tried to hide it from him at times – and wished he knew how to erase her pain. Those days of magic kisses on band-aid covered "owies" were long over; his hugs and kisses couldn't mend his daughters' broken heart.

As he sat there staring at the legal document, he thought about how much his life had changed over the last four months. He had gone from being a father who hadn't seen his daughter in two years to having sole custody of a precocious, strong-willed, amazing teenage girl. He had gone from coming home to an empty house every night – except for when Catherine was in town – to being greeted by his daughter's beautiful face every day. In four months, the walls of his office had been transformed from being strictly professional to containing numerous photos of Alex over the years which, honestly speaking had gone by way too quickly. He was no longer a SEAL and cop who just happened to be a father. Now he was a father who just happened to be a SEAL and head of the 5-0 taskforce. His priorities were finally where they should have been all along.

Things with his daughter had been going great the last few days, with the exception of the one argument they had had last night when he had discovered her and Josh – Jason was still on the Big Island running a Field Training Exercise with the Army – in the backyard, lying side-by-side in the grass, staring up at the sky, at one in the morning. It had been a school night and to say that he had been less than pleased to not only find the teenagers awake at that time but also to find them lying that close to each other would have been an understatement. Alex had gotten really angry at him when he had proceeded to lecture both of them right there in the backyard about his rules regarding what he allowed and didn't allow when Josh was staying with them overnight. The two of them alone, out of his sight in the middle of the night, was a big no-no. Alex had hated his implication that she and Josh had been up to no good and had accused him, once again, of being paranoid and irrational.

They had talked about it, just the two of them, this morning over breakfast when Josh had been showering. Alex had apologized for her attitude from the night before. He had explained to her the reason for his rules as well as his concerns in regards to her relationship with any boy, not just Josh Sullivan, and that he didn't particularly feel like she and Josh needed to be as touchy-feely as they had been. She had promised him that Josh was nothing more than a friend and said she understood his rules about appropriate behavior when Josh was staying over. Then she had told him the reason for why they had been outside: Josh had been having a bad night due to it being his mom's birthday and Alex had stayed up with him to make sure he was okay. In that moment, Steve was grateful that the two kids had each other as friends. He was still uncomfortable with how close Alex and Josh were but he acknowledged that they both brought an understanding that the other so desperately needed when it came to being abandoned by their mothers. As much as it pained Steve to say it, Josh was able to offer Alex something that he couldn't. Steve knew what it was like to lose his mother but that loss was different than Alex's; his mother had died. She, unlike Cindy, had not chosen to walk away from her children.

This whole situation with Cindy had made him think a lot about his own mother. Thinking about everything Alex would miss out on, thinking about the things she would no longer be able to share with Cindy, made him think about all of the things he not been able to share with his own mother. His high school graduation; getting that acceptance letter to the Naval Academy; Alex's birth; graduation from the Academy; becoming a SEAL; watching his daughter grow up; all of those things he wished he had been able to share with his mother. He wished Alex had been given the chance to get to know the woman that she had always reminded him so much of.

Just as he started to find himself becoming overly melancholic, his cell phone rang; it was Alex's school.

* * *

"That's not fair," Alex complained, her eyes darting back and forth between her father and Principal Audrey Kamiya. "I didn't do anything wrong; why am I being punished?"

"You're not being punished, Alexandra," Principal Kamiya replied.

"Not to sound rude, Ma'am," Alex said, "but it feels like I am. It's not even ten in the morning and you're making me go home for the rest of the day." Glancing at her dad, she added, "I have practice this afternoon."

"I know you do," the long-time director of Maika'i loa Academy acknowledged, "and I will inform Coach Sheehan of the situation. You won't get in trouble for missing practice."

Frustrated, Alex turned her attention to her dad. "Please, Dad. I want to stay."

Steve shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart, but I'm taking you to the hospital to have that looked at." He was referring to the cut above her right eye, now swollen and dried with blood, as well as the bump and fresh bruise above her temple near her hairline. When he had received the phone call from the school, he had only been informed that an "incident" had occurred at the school that morning and that Alex had been hurt. Upon arrival at the school, he had found his daughter sitting on the bench outside of Principal Kamiya's office, holding an ice bag to her head. He had asked Alex what had happened and she had refused to tell him, insisting instead that she was fine. He had told her that the cut was anything but fine and, still, she had refused to tell him anything. All she had done was accuse him of overreacting. Before he had had a chance to address his daughter's strange tone – she was nonchalant about her injury but her voice contained an edge of anger – Principal Kamiya had asked to speak to him alone in her office. Now, here they were telling Alex that she would be sent home for the rest of the school day, along with everyone else who had been involved in the "incident".

"It's just a cut," Alex declared for the third time. Seriously, why was her Dad so friggin' concerned with a cut? She'd been hurt a lot worse in the past. "It's not a big deal."

Steve refused to start arguing with her. "It is a big deal, Alex; you blacked out after hitting your head."

"It's not any worse than being pistol whipped."

Steve visibly flinched at her remark. He locked eyes with his daughter across the table for several long moments. Then, turning towards the Principal, he said, "I apologize for my daughter's attitude. I'm afraid she gets her stubbornness from me."

Principal Kamiya smiled at him. "No worries, Commander McGarrett." Turning towards the teenager, she continued, "I really hope you understand that you are not being punished, Alexandra. It's important to me that you get that injury of yours looked at so that when you come back on Monday you will be able to fly past all of those boys on the cross-country trail." This was only the second week of school and she – along with all of Alex's instructors – had already taken a liking to the young McGarrett girl. There was something special about Alexandra McGarrett; that point was proven again after that morning's incident.

Alex smiled at that, even though she was still mad about being sent home from school. "Yes, Ma'am."

* * *

"I told you it wasn't a big deal," Alex stated, slamming her locker shut. The sound it made echoed through the deserted hallway. "Why couldn't you be on my side for once?" She threw her backpack over one shoulder and moved to walk away.

Reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder, Steve impeded her process. "First off, I _am_ on your side; that's why I'm taking you to the hospital. Secondly, why the hell are you mad at me?"

Alex expelled an annoyed breath. "I'm not mad at you."

"Then what's with the attitude?"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"No, Alex, it's –"

"Hey!" A girl's voice echoed down the hall. When Steve looked up, he saw a heavyset, blonde teenager hurrying towards them. Reaching them, the girl threw her arms around Alex who, momentarily stunned, took a few moments to return. Stepping out of the hug, the girl said, "Thanks for earlier. No one's ever stuck up for me before."

Alex looked uncomfortable for a minute. "Uh, sure," she said, "No problem."

Looking past the McGarrett's, the girl said, "There's my Dad; I better go." She walked past them and then turned around. "I'm Tracy, by the way."

Alex smiled. "I'm Alex."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I know; this ended without an explanation of what happened. Don't worry! That will be explained in chapter 3. :-) As always, please Read and Review. It will make me happy! :-) Thanks for reading!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far and to everyone who is reading who has not reviewed. Writers thrive on reviews (good, bad, indifferent) and appreciate every single one we receive. **

**Originally this chapter was supposed to head along a different route; Steve's character, however, had other plans. LOL He insisted on having these conversations!  
**

**As always, please read and review. :-)  
**

* * *

"I told you it wasn't that big of a deal," Alex stated as they walked out of the hospital. "You should have just let me stay at school."

Steve had had enough. She had protested the entire way to the hospital from the school and had continued all the while she was being examined by the doctor. She had just about flipped her lid when the doctor had ordered a head CT to check for a concussion. Her irritability was what had first alerted him to the possibility of a concussion; her sudden fatigue and partly slurred speech during the drive over had further supported his hunch. When he had mentioned all of those things to the doctor, Alex had again grown irritable, insisting that she was absolutely fine. Even after the confirmed diagnosis of a concussion, Alex had continued arguing with him, her tone and attitude getting steadily worse. But this was the final straw; they were going to have the necessary discussion right here, right now. He reached out a hand and firmly grasped her shoulder, causing her to stop in place. "Really, Alex? Not a big deal?" Ignoring the look she gave him, he continued. "Because this," he said, lightly touching the stitched wound over her eye, "is kind of a big deal. And you _do_ have a concussion."

"It's not the first time I've had a concussion, Dad," Alex stated, slapping his hand away from her face. "And I could have stitched this myself using a needle and dental floss; would have saved you a co-pay and insurance claim."

Knowing his kid, yeah, she probably could have sewn her own head shut using the exact items she mentioned. The way she said it, exuding in confidence, he wondered if she had, at some point, actually done that. But that was a matter he would address at another time. Pointing to a bench on the other side of the walkway, Steve said, "Bench." Seeing her open her mouth in protest, he said, "Now!"

She mumbled under her breath as she made her way over to the bench, dodging several young kids who were running along the walkway, and practically threw herself down onto the wooden seat. Steve exhaled loudly before sitting next to his daughter, handing her the bottle of water he had picked up for her from a vending machine in the hospital lobby. Removing a bottle of prescription Acetaminophen from his cargo pocket, he twisted off the lid and handed her two pills. He stifled her protests with a shake of his head. When she finally relented and swallowed the pills, he spoke, "I know that the concussion is partly to blame for your irritability, but you need to relax. You need to drop the attitude."

"Dad –"

Steve shook his head. "No, Alex. You need to watch your tone and stop arguing with me. Talk to me; tell me what I did to make you mad."

"I already told you I'm not mad at you," she answered, her tone bitter. "Sorry," she muttered after seeing the annoyed look that appeared on her dad's face.

"Fine; then tell me what happened," Steve prompted. He had tried during the drive to the hospital to hear Alex's version of what had happened – the Principal had informed him of what had taken place – but she had been unwilling to talk about it. At the time, she was more content with arguing him about whether or not she actually needed to visit the hospital.

"You talked to Principal Kamiya for ten minutes," Alex stated, her apology from only seconds earlier clearly forgotten as her voice filled with anger again. "I know she told you what happened."

"I want to hear it from you," he told her. No, he _needed_ to hear it from her and not just so he could determine the status of her memory, although that, too, was a concern with the concussion and all. "What happened? Why are you so upset and angry right now?"At his questions, his daughter released a sigh as her body slumped in defeat against the back of the bench. Carefully eyeing her, attempting to read the expression on her face and the emotion in her eyes, he asked, "Do you remember what happened?" That got her attention.

She looked at him, her eyes full of what he interpreted as guilt and fear. "Yes," she quietly answered before admitting, "I didn't before but I do now." When her dad didn't drop eye contact with her, she stated, "I know I should have told you but it was scary. When I was pistol whipped I didn't lose my memory. Yet, today, I hit my head on a stupid handrail on the staircase and when I woke up I couldn't remember what happened."

"You're telling me now," Steve assured her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. It annoyed him that she hadn't been open and honest with him; she should have told him that she didn't remember. However, she did not need him to get upset with her right now. "That's the important thing."

She leaned into her dad and closed her eyes. She was really tired; a nap sounded great right about now. "You can't go to sleep, Alex," her dad said as he gently shook her until she opened her eyes. "You need to stay awake. Talk to me."

"What about your job?"

Steve smiled at her. "Right now my job is to be with you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "C'mon, Sweetheart, talk to me about what happened." It really was like pulling teeth to get her to talk sometimes.

"Okay. Fine." She sighed and took a drink of water. "People are mean. _Teenage girls_ are mean." She moved out from under his arm. "This group of girls – I think they are juniors – they pick on so many kids. I don't know. I guess it's because they are really pretty or something but they constantly pick on people, especially that girl Tracy. They call her fat and ugly and stupid. From what some of my classmates say, they picked on her all last year, too." She stopped and started to rub her temples. It was clear to Steve that she had finally decided to stop hiding her headache pain from him. She shrugged. "This morning they were tormenting her in the hallway, saying a lot of mean things…" She looked at him and, with a slight blush appearing on her cheeks, added, "Things that aren't appropriate to say in front of you." She ran her thumb over the faint blood stain on her shirt sleeve. "I got in the middle of them and told them to stop picking on her. I think I might have raised my voice a little but they did stop. I turned to walk back to where Josh was standing and the next thing I know I'm waking up. I was lying on the floor, Josh was holding my hand, and a bunch of teachers were around me." She shrugged again. "Josh said one of the girls tripped me while another one pushed me. Apparently my head hit the corner of the handrail."

That was pretty much the same story he had heard from Principal Kamiya. The only part he hadn't heard about was Josh holding Alex's hand. Momentarily deciding to ignore that part, he simply stated, "You didn't even know her name."

"Why does that matter?" Alex asked, her head jerking up to look at him. She winced as the motion caused a throbbing pain to course through her head. "Didn't realize I had to know someone in order to stick up for them."

"That's not…" He took a deep breath, counted to ten and exhaled. Her attitude was starting to give him a headache and he could feel his patience starting to wane. He forced himself to remain calm and not lash out at her. "I'm not saying you were wrong, Alex. I was just making an observation."

"Yeah, well, someone had to stick up for her."

* * *

Lying in bed that night, Steve struggled to fall asleep. Between having to wake up every two hours to check on Alex and his mind running through everything that had taken place that day it was impossible to relax. The two boys sleeping downstairs – one on the couch and one on the floor – dispelled any serious thoughts he had about going for a midnight run on the beach in an effort to exhaust his body enough so he could get some rest; going downstairs would wake them up. To make matters worse, he was trying to understand his conflicted feelings in regards to his daughter's actions of that day.

After leaving the hospital, he had taken Alex back to HQ with him. Her concussion was a major concern for him and taking her home had not been an option; being in his office with her had allowed him to keep an eye on her, to keep her from dozing off for a lengthy amount of time. They had eaten lunch with the rest of the team – Alex ended up throwing up most of what she ate – before Steve had been called to the governor's office for an impromptu meeting. Upon arrival back at HQ, he had discovered Danny and Alex sitting on the couch in his office. Danny's arm had been around Alex's shoulders as she slept with her head against him. Danny informed him that he and Alex had talked for awhile and then he had agreed to let her sleep for brief periods of time, waking her up every twenty minutes.

After that it had been time to head over to Sam and Grace's school – it was Danny's weekend with Grace and Steve was picking up Sam to spend the weekend – Jason was _still_ running the field training exercise – with his brother at the McGarrett home – and, while he drove his truck there, Danny had made it a point to keep Alex talking so she would not doze off again. After picking up Grace and Sam – both kids had inquired as to Alex's injuries; they received a simplified version of the truth – they headed back to the office for an hour-and-a-half before going to Maika'i loa Academy to pick up Josh, who, upon reaching the truck and seeing the stitches above Alex's eye, made a big deal out of checking on her and making sure she was okay. He had hugged Alex, leaving his arms around her for an extended amount of time, while whispering in her ear. Alex had just relaxed against him and, when she laid her head against the boy's chest, Steve had just about lost it – Danny had whispered something about Aneurysm Face – and physically separated the two before declaring that the two younger kids would sit in the middle, next to each other, forcing the teenagers to each sit by a window, separated enough for Steve's momentary satisfaction.

After that, per Alex's suggestion, they all grabbed a bite to eat before dropping Danny and Grace back of at HQ and then, after making his daughter move to the front passenger seat, they headed home. Upon stepping foot in the house, Alex announced that she was going to bed and, while Josh and Sam quickly disappeared into the backyard, Steve watched as his stubborn daughter slowly made her way up the stairs on unsteady feet, refusing his assistance. He had given her enough time to wash up and change and then went to check on her, finding her fast asleep on top of the quilt of his mother's that Alex had discovered in a box in the storage unit last weekend. Gently lifting her legs, he had managed to get her underneath her sheets and then tucked her in, leaving a soft kiss on the top of her head. He had lingered for awhile in her doorway, watching her sleep and staring at the visible marks of the injuries she had acquired that morning, until he heard the boys come back inside. An hour later the boys had finally settled down and Steve headed to bed to get some rest, not that he had managed to get very much in the two hours since then.

Steve groaned when his cell phone started to vibrate on the nightstand. It was an unknown number but he answered it anyway. "McGarrett."

"Hey, Sailor."

"Cath."

The way he said her name, she could tell he was smiling. It was nice to know that, after all these weeks of not talking to each other, the sound of her voice could make him smile. "I know it's late; I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he assured her, sitting up in the bed and scooting backwards so his back rested against the headboard. "I was awake anyways; it's been a rough day."

"I know," she told him. "Been a rough few weeks from what I hear."

"What?"

"Alex told me," she replied. "She didn't tell you?"

"Uh, no." He knew that Catherine had called Alex to tell her she was deploying but this was the first time he had heard that the two were still in communication with each other. "You two have been talking?"

"Almost every day, Steve." Ever since she had set sail on the Enterprise she had been in regular contact with Steve's daughter. A single day had not passed without them either conversing on the phone or over email. She had liked Steve's daughter the first time she met her; she adored the teenager even more now.

Steve groaned softly. He could only imagine what the two of them had been talking about. He wondered why Alex had not told him that she was in contact with Catherine; he had not talked to Catherine since that day in his office right before she had deployed. "Should I be concerned that you and my daughter are talking so often?"

Catherine laughed. "Relax, Sailor. She's just…" She paused for a few moments, considering her words. "I like getting to know your daughter."

"Yeah," he murmured, rubbing his temple in an attempt to rid himself of the headache. That didn't really answer his question. "What do you two talk about?"

"A lot of stuff," she told him. She knew about the custody hearing and about their trip to Seattle to get Alex's things. Alex had told her about her mother choosing to give up her parental rights. She knew about Alex's first day of school and that she made the cross-country team. Alex had even kept her informed about Steve. "You're having a hard time with what happened at school today, aren't you?"

Alex had sent her an email earlier – around lunchtime Hawaii Time – to tell her what had happened that morning at school. In the email, Alex had mentioned that Steve was acting over-protective and making a big deal out of nothing. Of course, the concussion and stitches that Alex had mentioned as having had made it clear to Catherine that Steve was just concerned about his daughter. Knowing him as well as she did, she made it a point to call him, to check to see how he was handling all of the changes that had occurred over the last few weeks.

Steve expelled a breath. "I'm proud of her, Cath, really I am." Steve's eyes travelled to the photos of Alex that were displayed on the top of his dresser. "I'm proud of the fact that my daughter stood up for someone that she didn't even know."

"But?" Catherine prompted. His tone told her there was something that he wasn't saying.

Steve sighed. "I don't like that she got hurt doing it." He ran a hand across his eyes, trying to rid them of sleep. "She gets hurt a lot. I think that sometimes she doesn't think before she acts and that, sometimes, she cares so much about other people that she tends to neglect herself." He sighed again. It wasn't just Alex's physical hurts that bothered him; it was those emotional tolls she had a tendency of taking on, too. "She's my daughter, Cath, and it kills me to see her hurt."

Catherine didn't respond for a few moments and then she gave into a little laugh. "She reminds me a lot of someone I know."

"Really? Who?"

_Is he seriously asking me that? _Steve was an incredible man – trustworthy, loyal, hard-working, dedicated, and strong – but what she loved – yes, _loved _ – most about him was how much he cared about people. It's why he became a SEAL; it's the reason for all of the choices he had made in his life. He cared about people; he cared about justice. He was also, at times, a hard-headed man and often oblivious – or maybe it was strictly denial – to the character traits that others – those who really knew him – saw in him. It drove her absolutely crazy sometimes when he refused to see those parts of himself that really shined through. "Oh, you know," she started, "just some guy who played a role in creating her."

"Cath –"

"Steve." Her voice took on _that_ tone, the one he had grown very familiar with over the years, which told him he better not choose to start debating with her.

"Alright, alright," he said, giving into a chuckle. "You're saying she's like me." Who would know better than Cath? Over the years, she had expressed her concerns about his job – she hated it when he got injured – but that she supported him no matter what. She understood his job – understood his passion for his job – and was there for him throughout it all. It was one of the things he loved most about her. She was always there for him, even if he had done a rather crappy job at feeding her and staying in touch over the years; he wasn't sure he would ever find another woman who would support him, encourage him, and put up with all of his flaws the way that Catherine did.

"Exactly," Catherine said, smiling into the phone. "She's exactly like you in so many ways. I know you don't see it in yourself a lot of the time, but you and I both know what makes you tick. We both know what makes your daughter tick." She glanced down at the clock on the computer screen in front of her. "Damn, I'm running short on time but let me say this: if you're proud of her, then be proud of her. I'm not sure if she feels this way but please don't make her feel like you're disappointed in her. Worrying about her is one thing but –"

"I got it, Cath," he interrupted. He understood Navy time limits on phone usage; he didn't want her to receive a reprimand. He rubbed his temple again. He hadn't acknowledged the possibility that Alex felt like he was disappointed in her for sticking up for Tracy. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry I can't talk longer."

"The intelligence community won't wait," Steve needlessly reminded her. "I miss you." For now, that declaration would have to work. Maybe he'd have the guts the next time he saw her to make that other declaration that he was most definitely sure of now.

When she answered him, he could hear the smile in her voice. "I miss you, too. Tell Alex I called and that I'll email her tomorrow." She hesitated, finally deciding to not tell him. _I love you, Steve._

"I will," he promised her.

* * *

After hanging up with Catherine, Steve remained in bed for a few more minutes, listening to the sound of the waves through his open bedroom window, before getting up and putting on his t-shirt. He made his way down the hall, stopping briefly to glance downstairs at the two sleeping Sullivan boys, and into his daughter's room, where he discovered her no longer in her bed. Instead, he could see her sitting sideways in a chair out on the balcony, wrapped in the quilt, her legs dangling over the arm of the chair.

"What are you doing up?" he asked her as he joined her on the balcony, claiming the chair next to her.

"Couldn't sleep," she answered, glancing briefly up at him before returning her attention to the night sky. "Thinking 'bout stuff."

"Like what?" When she turned her head further away from him, he nodded. "Right. Nothing you want to talk about with me."

Alex sighed. "Why do you –" She expelled an annoyed breath. "It's not that I don't want to, Dad. I just need to work things through on my own. When I'm ready –"

"Are you ready to talk to Catherine about it?" Yeah, that didn't come out the way he had intended it to. What he had intended as a simple inquiry had sounded confrontational.

"Are you trying to start a fight with me?" Alex asked him, eyes narrowed in anger. She moved to stand up. "Because my day's been kinda shitty in case you didn't notice and I really –"

Steve placed his hand over hers. "No, I'm not trying to fight with you. Okay? I'm sorry; that just came out wrong." When she continued to glare at him, he said, "Please sit back down. I'm sorry, Sweetheart." She huffed before sitting back down and leaning away from him. "Thank you and you really need to watch your mouth." When she rolled her eyes at him and looked away, he just sat there, staring at her, unblinking, until finally he found it possible to speak without reprimanding her for her now habitual eye-rolling. "You didn't tell me you were talking to Catherine regularly."

"Yeah," Alex muttered, "and you didn't tell me that you _weren't_ talking to her regularly." When her dad squirmed a little in his seat, she decided to lecture him. Aunt Mary sure had been right when she said her dad was stupid when it came to women. "You two are so stubborn it's ridiculous. I don't get why you two won't just say 'I love you' already."

Steve watched his daughter as she became more enlivened with each word she spoke. Clearly this was something she had been thinking about for awhile. "It's not that simple, Alex."

It warmed Steve's heart to hear her laugh the way she did. Even if it was at his expense. "It's the simplest thing in the world, Dad. You either love someone or you don't. Whether or not you admit it to yourself, you do love her and she loves you. Everyone sees that."

Steve diverted his eyes to the shore. It was weird getting love advice from his daughter; this was a moment he had never imagined would take place. He cleared his throat. "When did you become a love expert?" _If she mentions Josh, I'm buying her a chastity belt and chasing him away with my weapons._

_From Grandpa_ _and the Boyer's_. She locked eyes with her dad. "If you love someone, you tell them. You don't keep it inside because…because you might wake up one day and never have the chance to say it again." She could tell by the way he looked at her that he was trying to figure out how to respond to her. She guessed that he had probably assumed – and he would be right – that her comment was referencing her grandfather's unexpected death as well as that last time she had seen her mother. She wished she could go back in time and tell her mom she loved her one more time. She wished she could tell her grandfather the same thing, just one last time. Not wanting to discuss that, she said, "How'd you know I've been talking to Catherine?"

"She called," Steve replied, mentally making a note to talk to her about her mom and grandfather at a later date. "Just got off the phone with her."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he replied, following her gaze to the water. "So…"

"I told you I like her, Dad," Alex answered, resting her head against the back of the chair. "She's cool and really easy to talk to."

Steve nodded. "That she is." Stealing a glance at his daughter, he tested his luck. "What exactly do you two talk about?"

Alex shrugged. "A lot of different stuff." Turning her head, she caught him watching her. "I only ever really had Mrs. Boyer to talk to and now, with mom…" She shook her head. "It's just – I like having women I can talk to about stuff." It wasn't just Catherine she talked to about things; there was also Kono, Aunt Mary, and Lori. A female perspective was nice to have, especially when it came to talking about those topics she couldn't talk to her dad about: boys; her period and PMS; hair, makeup and fashion; how incredibly annoying her dad could be at times; and so much more. It sure was different than talking to her dad or Chin or Kamekona or Uncle Danny. Not necessarily better, just different.

"You know I'm proud of you, right?" He asked her, catching the subtle wince she gave into. It was just about time for her next round of pain pills; it looked like she would definitely be requiring them. "For taking a stand against bullying."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, I guess, but that's not why I did it; to make you proud of me."

Steve nodded. "You did it because you care about people and because it was the right thing to do."

She looked uncomfortable at his comment. "Yeah," she murmured, not in total agreement.

"Hey," he said, nudging her gently with his arm. "What is it, Sweetheart?"

Alex glanced briefly at him before diverting her eyes downward, her finger tracing a pattern on the quilt. When she finally answered him, he was reminded that his daughter still harbored so much pain in her heart and that, despite her best façade, she was not entirely over any of the hurt that her mother and he had caused over the course of her young life. "I've been in her shoes before – not the being bullied part – and it sucks to feel like no one cares about you. Just because I don't know her doesn't mean I think its okay for people to treat her like crap." Stealing a glance at her dad, she added, "I forgive you, Dad. Honest, I do. It just sucks to be reminded sometimes."

"Yeah," Steve murmured, squeezing her hand. She shifted in the chair, resting her head against his shoulder. They sat there quietly for several long minutes, until Steve suggested, "How about the Ulehawa Historic Site, Hawaii Heritage Center, and Kaniakapupu?"

Alex lifted her head to look at him. "What?"

"For our date tomorrow."

Alex smiled. "Really? We're still going to have our date?"

"Of course we are," he replied, returning her smile. "We said every week, remember?"

"What about Sam and Josh?"

"Mr. Sullivan will be here by eight to pick them up."

"Cool," Alex said, her smile growing bigger. It was going to be such a fun day; her dad was awesome for wanting to take her places where she could explore her love of history. Resting her head back against his arm, she said, "Love you, Dad."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this story. At some point, I promise to thank each of you individually. Also thanks for everyone who is reading and adding this story to their alerts. **

**This chapter shows that life moves on for Steve and Alex. It has its' great moments but there are still some underlying hurts that will take a long time to overcome. Of course, I never planned on parts of this chapter to be written but my characters had a different story to tell. I wonder who will catch the reference to why this story is titled what it is...  
**

**As always, please read and review. Mahalo!  
**

* * *

As Steve maneuvered his truck, weaving in and out of traffic, the police lights illegally turned on, the only thought going through his mind was that his daughter was going to kill him. Well, maybe not kill in the literal sense of the word, but she was certainly going to be mad. She was going to be mad and upset and possibly scared. She was going to be angry at him for breaking the promise he had made her just that morning. She was probably already assuming the worst and, upon seeing him – whenever the hell he managed to make it there – she would be concerned about his battle wounds from that morning's case.

He turned off the lights as he made the last left turn and headed to the full parking lot. He circled the lot once, parking in the only open spot in the far back corner of the lot. As he climbed out of the truck, he glanced at his watch. _Seven minutes_. Picking up speed, he ran through the lot, headed towards the starting line, being forced to slow down as he made his way through the crowd. He made his way through the mass of people, coming to a stop at the edge of the field. Spotting his daughter stretching near the starting line, he shouted her name. His heart warmed at the sight of her wide smile. She glanced at the countdown clock, mounted on a pole behind her, then jogged over to the sideline. She threw her arms around him and he kissed her on the top of the head. "Good luck, Sweetheart. Do your best."

She jogged back to the starting line, her blue and gold uniform surrounded by a rainbow of other colored uniforms: green and yellow; black and maroon; red and silver; white and navy; royal purple and yellow. As the clock counted down the final minute to start time, Steve smiled and looked on proudly. He had kept his promise – he made it to his daughter's first ever high school cross-country meet.

* * *

"Uncle Steve, are they almost here?"

Steve glanced down at Grace who, along with Danny, Chin, Kono, and the Sullivan's, were standing with him near the finish line. He glanced at the clock; 19:12. Not a single runner had entered the final stretch of the race yet. Not even Alex. "I think so, Grace."

Steve's eyes darted back and forth between the clock and the tree line. As the clock turned to 19:48, Steve spotted a dark haired girl leaving the tree line, running towards them. The runners' form told him it was not his daughter. Then another girl, this one blonde, left the tree line. Behind her was another brunette. Alex. There was less than half of a mile to go to the finish line.

"Third place; not bad." Steve stole a glance to this right at the sound of Danny's voice. Returning his eyes to the course, Steve agreed with Danny. Third place was certainly respectable, especially for Alex's first competition. He knew, however, that Alex would have something to say about coming in third – she had told him just last night that her goal was to have the best time today. He also knew that she _always_ picked up speed during the final stretch of whatever distance she was running. In fact, on several occasions, she had sprinted past him during the last three-quarters of a mile of their morning runs.

He watched as his daughter picked up speed, passing the blonde girl with apparent ease. He heard Danny and Chin murmur something next to him. Josh, Sam, Grace, Kono, and Jason Sullivan were loudly cheering for Alex. Danny and Chin joined the cheering. Steve started to shout his daughter's name, his voice louder than anyone else's as Alex continued to pick up speed. The clock turned to 20:03 and Alex was gaining on the lead runner. Less than a quarter mile. Alex continued to gain on the lead runner. Closer and closer until she was almost right on the heels of the lead runner. The clock hit 20:45 and Alex sprinted past the girl, not slowing down until after she crossed the finish line. Her final time: 21:13. She had just finished first in first ever cross-country meet.

* * *

"You okay there, buddy?" Danny asked quietly.

Steve glanced to left to meet Danny's questioning eyes. "Yeah. Why?"

"You have this blissful smile on your face," Danny commented. It wasn't a bad thing that Steve looked so damn content with life. In fact, it was pretty frigging remarkable that Steve was capable of showing that emotion. It was just so rare for Steve to look happy, especially _that_ happy; it was kind of scary.

Steve nodded his head to his right and turned his head back around. "Look at her, Danny. She's so happy." He was referring to his daughter, who, ten minutes ago received a phone call while they waited in the bleachers for Josh's football game to start. Alex, who was standing thirty yards away in an isolated, quiet grassy area, was clearly having an animated conversation with whomever she was on the phone with; the smile hadn't left her face yet.

"Yeah, she is," Danny acknowledged. He always knew Alex would be okay with everything that had taken place over the last couple of weeks – hell, the last couple of months even – because she was a McGarrett after all. She was a strong kid – physically and emotionally – with more resiliency than most people Danny had ever known. "I know it's been tough on both of you lately but she will be okay. She'll come out of this on top."

It was as if Steve had not even heard him. "I haven't seen her smile like that in a long time." It wasn't that Alex had stopped smiling – she smiled quite a bit every day – but the particular smile she was wearing at the moment reached up to her eyes, lighting up her entire face. That smile warmed his soul in a way like no other.

Steve's smile grew when Alex hung up the phone and started climbing the bleachers towards them. When she sat down next to him, he asked, "So, you gonna tell me who that was?"

"Catherine," she replied, waving distractedly to a few classmates who had called her name as they were walking by down below. "She called to ask how the race went and she said she will call you tonight if she gets a chance."

"Danno," Grace said, standing and turning around to face her dad. She had been sitting below Danny and Steve, next to Sam and Mr. Sullivan while the two kids played Angry Birds on their phones. "Can Alex take us to go get a snack?"

"Sure," Danny answered, glancing at the teenage girl. "But did you ask Alex if she wants to take you? Josh's game starts in ten minutes."

"It's cool, Uncle Danny," Alex assured him, standing up. "I can take them." When Danny pulled out his wallet, Alex waved him off with a smile. "My treat. Want anything?"

After taking orders from the three men, Alex headed off with Sam and Grace, making their way back down the bleachers. After the kids left, Danny looked at Steve and said, "So, Catherine is the source of your daughter's happiness."

"They talk every day." Yeah, Steve was aware that his comment didn't really address Danny's observation.

"What about you?"

"What about me, Danny?" Steve asked, avoiding looking at his friend as he watched the football teams gather on the sidelines in a huddle.

"Really, Steven?" Danny asked, his voice taking on _that_ tone. "Your girlfriend and your daughter get along great and –"

"Girlfriend?" Jason asked, moving to sit on the other side of Danny. "I didn't know you were dating."

"She's deployed." That was all Steve offered.

"Navy?"

Steve nodded at Jason's question. He really should be more comfortable talking to the guys about his love life but he wasn't, it was as simple as that.

Danny couldn't resist the temptation to butt in. "Don't let Steven's lack of words concern you, Jason. His Neanderthal brain doesn't know how to admit that his insanely hot and intelligent girlfriend means more to him than just a –"

"Danny," Steve warned, his voice slightly threatening.

"Fine," Danny said, throwing his arms in the air. "All I'm trying to prove is that Catherine's a keeper and any guy would be lucky to have her. Don't let her get away because of your reluctance to admit your feelings."

"He's right, Steve," Jason commented. "An amazing woman who makes it a point to talk to your kid every day and who makes your kid smile the way Alex was…" he shook his head before continuing, "You know how many times in the last five years I've dated a woman who had that much interest in my boys? Not a single one."

* * *

Braking hard, Steve pulled into a spot at the cemetery. Getting out of the truck, he slammed the door shut behind him and pushed the lock button on his key. Racing towards the section of the cemetery that housed his father's grave site, Steve came to a halt when he saw his daughter's hunched over form in the distance. She was sitting directly in front of his father's headstone, in that same spot that he and Mary had once shared a picnic lunch, and it made him forget all about yelling at her. Yes, he was disappointed in her for skipping school and for ignoring his numerous phone calls over the course of the last hour, but it pained him to see her there, alone and grieving. He would address her delinquency later; for now, he would remember his father with Alex.

He made his way towards her, treading softly across the well-cared for grass, until plopping down into place next to her. She didn't look at him, not when he approached and not when his leg bumped hers as he sat down. From a mere glance in her direction, he could see her red, puffy eyes and the trail of recently shed tears on her cheeks. In Alex's hands were the dog tags that her grandfather had left for her in that shoebox. Looking down at the headstone, he saw an array of photographs spread out, the top edge of each barely touching the bottom of the letters which spelled out his father's name. There were photos of his dad and Alex from over the years – newborn Alex in his arms; at Alex's second birthday party; in Coronado when Alex was seven and Steve had been injured; the camping trip; Alex and him with Chin and other cops in his office at HPD – and one of John with his arm around his son as Steve held newborn Alex. There was also a framed photo of his father – a photo Steve had never seen before.

Steve picked it up and ran a finger across his dad's face. That dull ache that had vanished the second he had Alex with him permanently again refilled his heart. His daughter's mere presence, up until this moment, had soothed the pain he had felt over his father's murder. Sure, he would always harbor a sense of guilt over his relationship with his father and for not being there in that moment when his dad needed him the most, but Alex – her laughter; her zeal for life; her smile; her existence; her living with him permanently – had lessened that somewhat. His daughter had brought pure joy and happiness back into his life, enough so that the pain over his father's murder had diminished. But now, as he looked at that photo and saw that face that he often saw in his dreams and in memories of his childhood, his heart beat with grief.

"It's been a year." Steve looked over at his daughter when he heard her voice; her eyes full of tears. "He's been gone a whole year."

"Yeah," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Still feels like yesterday sometimes."

Alex nodded and looked away, her gaze focused downward at the photographs. Steve watched his daughter for a few minutes before returning his eyes to focus on the picture of his dad. He really had expected to be okay today, on this anniversary of his father's death, and he had been absolutely fine up until he saw his daughter sitting here, grieving alone in the middle of Punch Bowl National Cemetery.

"Does it ever get easier?" When he looked at her, she continued, "Death. Losing someone you love."

Steve shook his head. "No, not really. Death is never easy but you learn to deal with it and move on."

"Does the pain ever go away?" She glanced at the headstone, her eyes skimming over the letters and numbers found there. "Because I still feel like a piece of my heart is missing."

Steve reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're always going to hurt from losing Grandpa." He shifted slightly, uneasy about admitting to his pain, even if it was just to his daughter. "It still hurts from losing my Mom. It hurts from losing him, too."

Alex nodded but remained silent as she returned the dog tags to their rightful place around her neck. Then she started to slowly gather the photographs together, her eyes lingering over each of them for several seconds. "I just wanted to be with him today. He was alone when he…when it…" She looked at Steve, tears filling her eyes again. "He was all alone, Dad. I didn't want him to be alone today, too."

* * *

"_These are petroglyphs, Princess." Before his granddaughter could ask the question that he knew she was formulating in her mind, John McGarrett continued, "The word 'petroglyph' comes from the Greek word petros, meaning stone, and glyphein, meaning to carve." _

"_Cool," ten-year-old Alexandra, a spitting image of her father, stated as she rubbed her finger along the rock carving. "What's it called in Hawaiian?"_

_Her grandfather smiled at her. He should have also anticipated that question."Ki'i pohaku"._

"_Ki'i pohaku," she repeated, returning her grandfather's smile. "Thanks for bringing me here."_

"_It's a McGarrett tradition, Princess". His words caused the girl to tear her eyes away from the carving and look up at him. "I used to bring your Dad and Mary up here." _

"_Really? Did you guys have a picnic lunch, too?" She had just arrived in Honolulu yesterday for a visit with her grandfather and this was the first place he had brought her. It was so pretty up here: blue skies; the valley floor below them; the mountains; everything was lush and green. He was showing her the rock carvings before sitting down to have a picnic lunch. _

_John smiled at his granddaughter. "Yes, we did." His grin widened at the memories of his children from their childhood. So much had changed since then – his relationships with his kids had drastically worsened since then – but at least they had the memories. He wondered if Mary and Steve shared the same memories of this place; if any of their good memories included the many afternoons spent in this sacred place. _

"Ki'i pohaku," Alex whispered, running her finger along the rock carving of a dog and hearing her grandfather's voice inside of her head for the first time in weeks. Her dad had brought her and Mary up here several weeks ago, before the custody hearing had taken place, and that time she had not remembered this particular memory. But today, exactly one year since her grandfather had been stolen from her – from _them_ – her mind, thankfully, had been full of memories. She preferred to have memories of Grandpa in her mind at all times. During that trip to visit her grandfather, they had trekked back up to the petroglyphs two more times. The last time – one day before she returned to Seattle – he had expressed his dream that one day the McGarrett family would be reunited at the site – John, Mary, Steve, and Alex – and that, maybe, one day, Steve himself would bring his daughter here. _Grandpa got his wish; Dad and I are here together. Mary was here with us. If only Grandpa could be here, too._

"What?" Steve asked, setting down the fully stuffed hiking pack he had carried during their hike up here.

Turning around to face her father, Alex's voice picked up in volume. "Ki-i pohaku. It's the Hawaiian word for –"

"Petroglyph," Steve finished for her with a smile. That was one of the first Hawaiian words Steve could remember learning – after _Olu'olu_ and _mahalo – _using 'please' and 'thank you' were an absolute must in his house growing up – and he smiled at the memory of his first trip up to the petroglyphs with his dad. Some of his fondest memories of his childhood involved the strenuous trip up to the carvings, sharing a meal with his dad – sometimes Mary was there, too – and just enjoying the beauty that is Hawaii. It seemed appropriate – on this day, especially – that, after leaving the cemetery with his daughter in tow, he had called into work, picked up some items for lunch, and headed up here with Alex. This day was all about his remembering his dad. "Grandpa tau—"

"He brought me up here, you know," Alex interrupted, her attention focused on the carvings. "He told me about all the times he brought you and Mary up here – he was so happy – and how he proposed to Grandma up here."

Steve found it hard to speak as the flood of memories filled his mind. He had always loved his parents' love story. While deployed to Vietnam, his father had been shot in the arm and transported to the nearest Combat Support Hospital. There, while in recovery after surgery to remove the bullet, his parents met – his mother was the nurse who cared for his father – and they had hit it off right away. After being released from the hospital, John returned to combat – saying goodbye to his "guardian angel" – and his mother returned to aiding the innumerable soldiers and sailors who came into the hospital. It wasn't until six months later, when his father returned to Hawaii after the end of his tour, that Doris and John met again, this time near the sunken hull of the USS Arizona. They dated for a few months before John proposed, suggesting a hike and picnic lunch, and then waiting until they reached the top of Nu'uanu Petroglyph Park to get down on one knee and pop the question. Only two months later, John was redeployed to Vietnam; his parents had written each other a letter every single day and married the following year. Steve swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked away the tears. "Yeah, he really loved it up here."

Alex nodded, rubbing at her damp eyes. "He wished that the whole family could be here together one day." She gave him a small smile. "We came close when Mary was up here with us but…" she trailed off, giving into a shrug. "I think… I think he'd be really happy that you and I are up here together. Even if he can't be with us."

* * *

"So I think we have a few things to talk about," Steve said before popping the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth. They had spent the last hour or so eating and chatting. While they had enjoyed their specialty deli made sandwiches, fresh fruit salad, and oatmeal cookies fresh from their favorite bakery, they had swapped stories about John McGarrett. Alex had shared some of her favorite moments she had ever spent with her grandfather, her grief and pain slowly turning into laughter as she remembered all of the fun they used to have together. Steve had shared some of his favorite moments from his childhood – waiting by the front window every day for his father to come home; dressing up in his father's HPD uniform; watching as his parents danced in the living room every night; hiking with his dad – and soon he had found himself calling to mind things he had long since forgotten. Now that Alex's – _his _– grief had lessened and their hearts were full of positive memories again, and with his insane work schedule and Alex's ever-busy school and athletics schedule, Steve felt it was important to take this time to talk with her about many things that had been on his mind lately. He needed to have a heart-to-heart conversation with his daughter.

"Like what?" Alex asked him, lifting up from lying on her back to rest on her elbows.

"Some things you probably don't want to talk to me about," he admitted to her. "And I know I said I would wait until you are ready to talk to me – and that is still okay with me – but maybe –"

"You mean Mom?" She asked the question but did not look at him. Instead, her sunglass-covered eyes looked straight ahead at the scenery.

"Yes, Mom," he answered, reaching over and removing the sunglasses from her face. He needed to see his daughter's face when he talked to her. His gesture caused her to turn her head and look at him. "And some other stuff, too."

"I have nothing to say about Mom." That was it, plain and simple.

Steve knew from her tone of voice that he would not get anywhere by attempting to get his daughter to talk about Cindy. Alex wasn't going to have it and he really did not want to start a fight with her, especially not on today of all days. As it was, he already knew that they would argue over the punishment he was going to give her for skipping school. He would save that particular discussion for later. "Okay," he said, setting her sunglasses off to the side in a place that she would have to reach around him to get them back. "Then how about you tell me how you're doing with living here now."

Alex gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"The rest of your stuff came in the mail the other day," Steve commented. Last Saturday, after Alex's second cross-country meet and Josh's football game, they had arrived home to a note from USPS saying they had missed delivery of multiple packages. Having been instructed to stop by the nearest post office for package pickup, they had driven there and loaded up the back of the truck with the boxes containing Alex's items from Seattle. "And you seemed a little down when –"

"I like Hawaii, Dad," Alex interrupted, sitting up and leaning back on her hands. "I like living with you. I thought you knew that."

"I do know that, Alex," Steve assured her, turning his body so he was facing her. "But Honolulu –"

She interrupted him again, finishing his thought for him. "Isn't Seattle."

"Exactly," Steve agreed. "This isn't Seattle."

"My home is with you, Dad, but…" She looked away, staring at some distant object. _I miss my friends. I miss Mom._

He nudged her gently with her arm, giving her an encouraging smile. "C'mon, Sweetheart, talk to me. It's okay if you miss it; moving isn't easy." When she didn't reply, he prompted, "Seattle was your home for a long time. You're allowed to –"

"Sometimes," Alex interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper, "I wake up in the morning and I wish it was the Sound I was seeing outside my window. Instead of the Aloha Tower, I sometimes wish it was the Space Needle. When I see sailboats, I wish they were ferry boats." She stole a quick and subtle glance at her dad before looking away again. "Sometimes I wish I was on a ferry boat, all by myself for a few hours, just escaping from life." She looked at him again, this time allowing herself to actually make eye contact with him. "I love being here with you. I love living in Hawaii but it's not…" She sighed. "There was more anonymity there and I miss that."

"Anonymity?" He understood her longing for her old life, her old way of doing things. He understood her missing both the routine she had grown accustomed to and the familiarity of everything around her. He even understood – but didn't approve of – her desire to escape from reality for a bit by stealing away on a ferry boat; it was how she had taught herself to deal with the life's harshness. But anonymity? What the hell did she mean by that?

Alex nodded. "It's not like it is here. No one knows me there." She gave into a little smile. "I mean, people knew me but…" She shook her head. "Everyone knew Mom but I didn't have the same last name as her so they didn't _know_ me. But here…" she looked out at the surrounding nature, her eyes expressing a longing for days past. "Here, everyone knows me. I introduce myself to someone and instantly their eyes light up with recognition. Everyone knows our family. Say the name 'McGarrett' and people automatically think of you or Grandpa. In Seattle, I was able to make my own impression on people – they were able to make their own opinion of me because they didn't know me, they didn't know John and Steve McGarrett. But here…" she trailed off, slightly ashamed at betraying too much of her recent thoughts and inner battles.

"So you are feeling pressure to behave a certain way?" Steve asked her, hoping his voice did not betray his emotions at what he had just heard his daughter say. "Do you feel like you can't be yourself? Do I make you feel like you can't be yourself?"

"No," Alex answered, shaking her head as she did. "You accept me for who I am; you always have."

"But you feel like –"

"I feel like there's a shadow always over me," Alex admitted to him. Finally. "Like I have a reputation to uphold." She shook her head, mostly out of confusion about how to explain herself. "I mean, besides looking like you physically, I'm also 98.362 percent just like you."

"A shadow." It wasn't a question. Or maybe it was. Hell, Steve didn't even really know. Sure, the McGarrett name was popular around the island – it had been for as long as he could remember – but it had never dawned on him that Alex had been feeling added pressure just because of her last name. He always thought she had done a good job of making a name for herself – of improving the McGarrett name ten-fold. She was a much better person than he or his father had ever hoped to be.

"Yeah," Alex said, sitting all the way up now."I mean, it's not like it's a bad thing to be a McGarrett. I like that I'm your daughter and I like being grandpa's granddaughter. I'm glad that people know our family because of good things instead of something else, like, I don't know, being maniacal, strung-out-on-coke serial killers, and it's not like I plan on doing anything to tarnish our family name. But, sometimes, I miss it, the anonymity."

"Okay," Steve said, resting his arm on his bent knee. "I understand." He hoped he did, anyway. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know you don't have to be the perfect child, right? You're allowed to make mistakes."

"No one's perfect, Dad."

Steve nodded in agreement. "I hope you don't worry about what other people think about you. I want you to be comfortable with being yourself. Just be happy with yourself and that's all that matters. I don't want you to feel like you have to prove something to me. I'll be proud of you and love you no matter what."

"I'm not perfect, Dad, and I don't try to be the perfect child." _Although, sometimes I wonder if being the perfect child would have helped Mom to love me. _Attempting to be perfect wasn't the reason she ever behaved the way she did. Attempting to be perfect wasn't what made her tick. "I know what my potential is and what I'm capable of doing; I think it'd be stupid to let all of that go to waste."

* * *

As she lay there in the grass on her back, arms underneath her head, eyes closed, Alex glanced over at her dad. He appeared to be sleeping but she knew that he probably wasn't. It was getting late; they had been up here at the petroglyphs for almost four hours. Most of that time they had spent talking, first about her missing Seattle and her loss of anonymity, then about her being grounded for skipping school and then the anti-bullying program that she and Josh were working to establish at the school. That day of the bullying incident at school – it had taken place four weeks ago – had compelled Alex to research anti-bullying policies at schools not only in Hawaii but also around the nation. She had looked at school policies as well as stories of bullying, to include the most extreme cases that resulted in kids as young as nine years of age committing suicide. After doing the research, she had talked about it with Josh and, together, they had come up with the idea to create an anti-bullying program at their school – if Principal Kamiya would support them in that endeavor – that would work towards promoting acceptance. Since then, she and Josh had met several times with Principal Kamiya to discuss their idea and, yesterday, they had received full approval to make Heart2Heart an official student-run organization at the school.

Talking about Heart2Heart with her dad, who had helped her come up with ideas for a mission statement for the organization as well as a list of fundraising ideas, had made her extra appreciative for having him in her life. He had expressed his full support of her and offered his assistance whenever they needed it. He was so different than her mom had ever been. It had made her want to tell him something. "You know how you always want me to talk about Mom?"

She was right; he was awake. He turned his head to look at her. "Yeah."

"I understand why you want me to talk about her," she told him. "But sometimes I want you to talk about her, too. I think it would help me to know what you feel about her – not some sugarcoated pleasantries but the truth – and what made you fall in love with her in the beginning. It might help me to know what she used to be like, before money and rich as—jerks started ruling her life."

Her dad didn't say anything, just watched her for several long moments. She did not know if he had not been listening to her or if he was just trying to think about how to respond to her statement. So, instead of waiting for a response, she said, "I'm not the only thing she walked away from."

"What?" Steve asked sitting up, thankful for the opportunity to figure out what the hell to tell his daughter about her mother. It didn't seem appropriate to tell her that some days he was so angry with Cindy that all he wanted to do was strangle the woman.

Alex also sat up and shrugged. "I just wanted to hear her voice again," she admitted. "I called her office the other day – her cell phone number doesn't work and neither does David's – but she doesn't work there anymore."

"You called your Mom?"

"She's my Mom, Dad," Alex said, very much aware that he was less than pleased with what she had just told him. "She's my Mom." _I miss her. Even though all we did was fight, I miss her._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: As always, thanks to everyone who has left reviews. I've received an average of 7 reviews per chapter; I'd love for that average to increase at some point ;-) **

**I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter but it's been a struggle to edit and improve. For some reason, the words just will not flow. Hopefully the next chapter will turn out smoother.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is recognizable. Warning for use of language.  
**

* * *

"He really made you do that?"

Alex glanced to her right at Josh as they unlocked their bicycles from the bike rack outside of their school. "Yeah," she answered, twisting the number dial to the correct sequence. "Sure did." The lock snapped open and she removed it, dropping it into her backpack before placing her bike helmet on her head.

"Man," Josh said, securing his helmet in place. "That's tough." Alex didn't answer him right away. Her feelings regarding what her father had made her do that morning were conflicted: on one hand she knew it had been the right thing to do but it had been nothing but embarrassing and shameful.

"_Mr. McGarrett, Alexandra, Good Morning," Principal Kamiya greeted, rising from her seat behind her desk. Despite it being forty-five minutes prior to the start of the school day, her office assistant had just notified her that the teenager and her father were here, hoping to speak with her. _

"_Good morning, Ma'am," Alex greeted, stepping into the office in front of her father. _

"_Good morning," Steve said, dropping his hands from his daughter's shoulders and stepping around Alex to shake the woman's hand. _

"_Nice to see you back at school today," Principal Kamiya said to Alex. Gesturing with her hand, she said, "Please, have a seat." _

"_Thank you, Ma'am," Alex replied, taking the seat directly in front of the principal's. Prior to stepping foot inside the main office, her dad had instructed her as to which seat to take. He wanted her front and center for what she had been directed to do. _

_Once they were all seated, Principal Kamiya said, "Some of your classmates said you weren't feeling well yesterday. Feeling better?"_

_Alex looked at her dad. She had no idea why the principal was told that she was sick yesterday. Steve nodded towards the principal and said, "Go on, Alex."_

_Alex took a deep breath and expelled it. Then, looking at Principal Kamiya, she said, "Actually, Ma'am, that's why I'm here to talk to you." She bit her lip nervously for a moment before steeling her resolve. There was no way she was getting out of this; she knew her dad was making her do the right thing even if she didn't like it very much. "I, um, I wasn't sick yesterday, Ma'am, and I don't know why my peers told you that."_

"_I see," Principal Kamiya replied. She had a pretty good idea who had started the rumor that Alexandra had been ill yesterday and she was going to make it a point to speak with that young man as soon as possible. _

"_I did not ask anyone to lie for me," Alex told both the principal and her father. "Honest, I didn't." _

"_I know," Steve assured her. He had a pretty good idea that Josh was to blame for the lie. He appreciated the boy's loyalty to his daughter but he did not appreciate the falsehood that had been spread. He nodded his head towards Principal Kamiya. "Go on, Alex. Tell her why you're here."_

_Alex nodded and turned back to face the woman. She had to do this and not just because it was part of her punishment for ditching school. "I do not have an excused absence for yesterday; I skipped school. I thought I had a pretty good reason for doing it but I now know that it was still wrong of me to do it. I'm sorry if I caused anyone to worry about me and I take full responsibility for my actions. I am ready to face the consequences for missing my classes."_

She had also had to inform Coach Sheehan why she had missed practice yesterday. Both he and Principal Kamiya had expressed that they appreciated her honesty and willingness to take responsibility for her decision to skip school and practice but they were certainly disappointed in her. She had felt pretty miserable talking to them; she hated knowing she had disappointed them. Now she had more punishment on top of being grounded at home. "Yeah, well, I guess my Dad couldn't exactly lie about why I was absent yesterday. That would totally go against his goal of raising me to be responsible for my actions."

"Yeah," Josh acknowledged as they left the school campus and headed down the bike lane. "But, still, now you have to miss practice _and_ your race."

That part was certainly true. Coach Sheehan and her Dad had both agreed that, since Alex had let her teammates down by electing to skip practice, she did not deserve to run in Saturday's race. Part of the rules of the cross-country team – or any team at the school for that matter – was that student-athletes had to participate in practice in order to qualify to run in weekend races. "It's my own fault."

"So how long did your Dad ground you for?"

"Two weeks," Alex told him as they stopped at an intersection. Not that she had plans to abide by that two week punishment; if she got the chance, she'd break her restriction and just pray she didn't caught. Losing her phone and computer privileges was one thing; being on house arrest was another thing entirely. The two continued to talk as they rode, abiding by all traffic laws for bikers. They were so lost in their conversation that neither teen noticed the silver Lexus that was following them. Neither Alex nor Josh noticed that they were being watched by both the driver of the silver Lexus and also a second person posing as another bike rider.

* * *

Stepping into the backyard, Steve's breath caught in his throat at the sight of his daughter, brown hair blowing in the wind, skirt billowing around her ankles, sitting on the beach. She looked so innocent sitting there and it made him remember that she really was just fourteen years old. Of course he _knew_ how old she was – he was her father after all – but her independence, strong-will, and precociousness made her seem much older than her years, often lending way to frustration – for him _and _her – and disagreements. The last two weeks had been especially challenging. Ever since she had skipped school, Alex's behavior had been unpredictable and very much out of character.

He had grounded her for two weeks, confiscating her cell phone and putting her on house arrest. She had been instructed to go from home to school and then directly back home after cross-country practice. He had even made her stay inside the house with no television, phone, or computer access – unless it was needed to complete a school project – while he was also home. She had tried bargaining with him and had even argued with him that her punishment was unnecessary and ridiculous. She had lost that battle, especially when he had caught her, on two separate occasions, attempting to sneak out of the house and break her restriction. Each of those offenses had added an additional week of grounding with the added rule that she report directly to his office after practice. As a result, he hadn't allowed her to step foot inside their house unless she was accompanied by him.

Today was the first time in a week he had allowed an exception to that new punishment. The team had been called to a case about thirty minutes prior to school letting out for the day so he had called Alex, telling her she was allowed to head directly home after her practice. Now, here he was, accompanied by Danny, three hours later, at home after calling it a night. They would continue working their case tomorrow. For now, he was going to enjoy a dinner out – yes, Alex was still grounded – with his daughter and best friend. "Hey, Sweetheart, I'm home."

When she didn't answer, he continued making his way towards her. "Alex." All she did was shift her body away from him. That was cause for concern. "Hey, everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Alex told him, turning her head away so he wouldn't see the proof that she had been crying.

Steve glanced at Danny who nodded in the direction of the house and mouthed, "I've got this."

"Alright, Sweetheart," Steve said, nodding to Danny in return, "I'm going to go shower and change and then we'll head to dinner, okay?" He started walking back towards the house when she didn't reply.

Danny waited until Steve entered the house before taking a seat next to the teenager. "Hey, kiddo."

"I'm _fine_, Uncle Danny."

"I'm sure you _will be_ fine," he replied, "but that doesn't explain why you've been crying." His comment caused the girl to look at him with surprise in her eyes. "You're like another daughter to me, Alex. You –"

"Josh Griffin's dad got killed today."

That was not what Danny had expected to her from her. He had expected Alex's tears to be the result of something relating to her mother or from anger with her father. The two had been at war with each other for two weeks now. Yet, somehow she always managed to find out something about one of their cases; damn news media. "I didn't know you knew Josh Griffin."

Alex shrugged, swiping a hand across her eyes. "We have History class together. I saw the news report about an hour ago." And, yes, she realized that she had broken her punishment once again by turning on the television to watch the six o'clock news.

Danny reached out and placed a comforting arm around Alex's shoulders. "Josh will be okay, Alex. He has a loving aunt who is with him."

Alex nodded, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them to her. Sometimes she had so much difficulty in admitting certain things to her dad, especially when it involved him, but with Uncle Danny it was so much easier. "His Dad was the only parent he had left."

Just like that it all clicked for Danny. It wasn't so much the fact that the teenage boy Danny had met only a couple of hours ago had lost his father, although he realized that Alex truly felt sad for the boy. No, this was more about the fact that Alex was thinking about herself, of her own situation with being abandoned by her mother and only having one parent actively involved in her life. It also explained the smell of cleaning products inside McGarrett's home. Even if Steve had yet to catch on to it, Danny realized months ago that Alex had a habit of cleaning whenever she was scared or worried. "You're scared that you're also going to lose your dad."

"He gets hurt a lot and he takes a lot of risks at work."

There certainly was no denying that. Danny kissed the side of Alex's head. "Look, kiddo, I don't have to tell you that our job is dangerous – you know it is – and I won't lie to you and tell you that nothing bad is going to happen to your Dad. I can't make that promise to you although I wish I could." Alex nodded against his shoulder in understanding and he continued, "All I can do is keep the promise that I made to you a couple of months ago: I will look out for him and I will protect him the best that I can."

"Thanks, Uncle Danny," Alex said quietly, giving into a sniffle. "But I worry about him all the time. I'm scared every second of every day that something bad will happen to him."

She had turned her head to look up at him when she made her admission of fear. He dropped his arm from around her shoulders and said, "Your Dad loves you very much and even though he does take risks sometimes, I hope you know that his ultimate goal at the end of the day is to make it home to you. He's tough, Alex, you and I both know that. Believe me when I tell you that, if something horrible _were_ to happen, he will fight his hardest to get back home to you."

She gave into a smile. "I believe you."

"Good." He glanced back at the house. Still no sign of Steve. "So, you know, arguing with him all the time probably isn't helping matters any," he said, referring to the constant bickering that had been taking place between the two. "It might be nice for him to know you appreciate him."

"He knows that, Uncle Danny," she told him, slight annoyance in her tone.

"Maybe he does," Danny acknowledged, "but sometimes we dads need to hear it. Sometimes we need our kids to show it."

"I can't tell him I worry about him," Alex said. Her dad didn't need that extra pressure of knowing she worried about him whenever he was at work. "Some of the things that I tell you, I can't tell him."

"Never said you had to tell him that you're scared," Danny replied. Seeing the confused look on her face, he continued, "Figure out a way to show him you appreciate him, that you love him."

"You two ready to head out?" They both turned to look back at the house when they heard Steve's voice. Alex glanced at Danny for several long moments before nodding and giving him a smile. Then she stood up and ran towards her dad. Reaching him, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shirt. She didn't know if a hug was what Uncle Danny had been thinking of when he told her to find a way to show her dad that she loved him and appreciated him. All she knew was that _she_ liked the way it felt when her dad's arms were around her – they made her feel safe and assured her that he also was safe.

* * *

"_He's dead, Steve," Joe said, facing the younger man. "He was dead when I got here. Looks like he was tortured."_

"_Mokoto's dead?" He couldn't believe what Joe had just told him. There was no way that yet another person that Steve knew, loved, and respected was dead. Yet…_

"_We did this, Steve," Joe said. "Our questions got Mokoto killed. You continue to go down this road son, you got to ask yourself … how many more lives is that gonna cost?"Shifting his weight to the other foot, he continued, "Wo Fat has already taken your daughter once."_

_Steve could feel his blood pressure rising to an insane level at the mention of Alex. "That son-of-a-bitch threatened my daughter?" _

_Joe shook his head. "No, but he's out for blood, Steve, you know that. He's not going to stop hurting people or killing until you stop trying to figure all of this out. Maybe you should let this go." Perhaps it had been wrong to bring up Steve's daughter but Alex was the only thing that might make Steve think twice about his actions. Mentioning Alex might be the only asset he had left in maintaining the promise he had made all those years ago; Alex – the threat of harm coming to Alex – could help him keep Steve safe. Not to mention that Joe also had a responsibility to not only keep Steve safe, but also Steve's daughter. "Keep your daughter safe, Son."_

Joe's words – "keep your daughter safe" – kept echoing through Steve's mind as he attempted for the third time to contact Alex via her cell phone. As soon as Joe had said those words, he had climbed back into his truck and raced out of Mokoto's driveway, dialing Alex as he did. Truth be told, he was scared. He could face suicide bombers, IED's, terrorists, and being shot at on a daily basis; none of those things terrified him. But the mere mention of someone threatening his offspring and he was scared shitless. Wo Fat had targeted her once; he'd be damned if the man would succeed a second time.

Not even three hours ago, Steve had been walking into the ring, prepared to take on MMA fighter Chuck Liddell in a charity fight, after agreeing to sub for a man – who really had been innocent – whose shoulder Steve had dislocated during a takedown. The fight with Liddell had gone okay; he'd taken a few hits but he had also managed to land a few sweet moves onto Liddell as well. That is, the fight had gone well until Liddell landed an uppercut for a knockout. Steve wasn't sure how long he had been out cold but he would guess it hadn't been very long. Once settled back in the locker room, his team had wasted no time in teasing him and they had all shared a few laughs before he had received Joe's text. Now, here he was, racing towards Alex's school, a million frightening thoughts racing through his head. "Alex! Thank God," Steve said, the second he heard his daughter's angelic voice. "Where are you?"

"Hi to you, too, Dad," Alex greeted. Having heard it in his voice on prior occasions, usually after he had completed a case that had involved a child in some way, she wasn't concerned by the panic in his voice. "I'm getting ready to unlock my bike and head home."

"No," Steve said, a little too forcefully. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Go back inside the school and stay there. I'm coming to get you."

"What's wrong?"

Ignoring the horns that were blaring at him as he weaved in and out of traffic, Steve replied, "Just do as I say, Sweetheart. Please." His voice was near pleading now. "Just go back inside and do not leave until I come get you."

"Okay," she told him. He was scaring her but she knew well enough to not question him. "I'm going."

"Good," Steve said, allowing himself a breath of relief. Being inside of her school would keep her as safe as possible in his absence. Once he made it there, he'd ensure that she was one-hundred percent safe. "Let me know when you are inside."

* * *

Hopping out of his truck, Steve ran towards the front doors of the school. Once inside, he slowed down his pace and headed towards the main office, finding his daughter sitting on the bench located there. In typical Alex fashion, she was working on homework, history textbook and notebook propped on her legs as she tapped her pencil against the page. Not wanting to scare her, he quietly said her name. Upon hearing his voice, she jumped up, her school supplies falling to the floor with a dull thud. "Dad! What –"

Steve shook his head. "Not now." He squatted down and picked up her textbook, notebook and pencil. He slung her backpack over one shoulder and took her by the arm, leading her outside. Stopping at the bike rack near his parking spot, Steve handed the books to her and reached for the lock, his fingers fumbling with the numbers.

"Dad, what's wrong?" She was not oblivious to the fact that something had happened to freak him out.

Selecting the right combination, he undid the lock. "Get in the truck, Sweetheart."

Staring at him, she asked again, "What happened?"

Steve wheeled out her bike until it was clear of the rack and then lifted it up and started heading for the truck. "Please, Alex."

She didn't follow him as he moved towards the truck. She couldn't move because she was scared. So she just stared at him. "You're scaring me."

Steve slammed the truck bed closed and turned back towards his daughter. Reaching her, he embraced her, holding her tightly against him. "I know, Sweetheart. I'm sorry."

"Tell me what's wrong." Her voice was bordering on the edge of tearful.

He kissed her on the head. "I will – I promise – but not right now."

Steve was still so spooked that he did not pay any attention to the Silver Lexus with tinted windows that had pulled into the parking lot behind him. The Lexus had been behind him the last couple of blocks before reaching the school and, when the car had followed him into the lot, he had just assumed it was another parent arriving to pick up their child. He had been so preoccupied with locating his daughter and keeping her safe that he had not noticed that the driver of the car never exited the vehicle. As he stood there, arms around his daughter, assuring her that he would explain everything later, he was so distracted that he did not catch on to the fact that the driver of the Lexus was watching him and Alex.

* * *

**Please read and review :) Mahalo!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Wow! Thanks so much for the incredible reviews I received after the last chapter. You all really made me :-D ! **

**This chapter was supposed to be longer but my training schedule, while less hectic than anticipated, has not allowed me the chance to fully finish the next section. That said, it might not be until late next week or the week after that the next chapter gets uploaded.  
**

**Warning: the "f-word" is used multiple times in this chapter.  
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* * *

"I don't want to hear anymore from you," Steve stated a little angrily. He was tired of arguing with his daughter and had lost his patience several minutes ago. "Go sit in my office, do your homework, and stay there until it's time to leave."

"This is so unfair!" Alex argued for the umpteenth time, stopping in place and refusing to follow her father over the threshold into Five-0 Headquarters. Her voice was much louder now than it had been during the twenty minute drive here from her school but she didn't care. "You're –"

"What did I just tell you?" Steve interrupted, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her into Headquarters. People on the lower floors of the building did not need to experience his daughter's rage. "Shut your mouth and go to my office." Narrowing his eyes at her, he emphasized, "Now!"

Tugging her arm free from his grasp, she yelled, "No! I'm sick of being in your office everyday and I'm tired of you –"

"One more week, Alex," Steve said, his voice just below a yell. "You just added one more week to –"

"This is crap!" Alex shouted back, tossing her backpack at his feet. "This is absolute bull—"

"Whoa," Danny said, interrupting Alex's argument as he stepped into Headquarters behind them. "I think the people on Maui can hear you. What's got you so riled?"

Alex narrowed her eyes at her father. "Him and his stupid –"

"Do you want another week added on?" Steve asked her, crossing his arms in front of him. "At this rate you're going to be grounded until you're thirty."

"How is grounding me any different than the way you've treated me this past week?" Ever since he had shown up at her school, scaring the crap out of her, he had treated her like a prisoner. He had told her about Wo Fat murdering Mr. Mokoto and of this mysterious "Shelburne" but she really did not understand why her dad had turned into a crazy person. It wasn't like Wo Fat wanted _her _dead. If he did, he had his chance over four months ago when he had had her kidnapped. But, still, her dad had insisted on being paranoid and crazy.

The weekend had consisted of him not allowing her out of his sight. He had even forced her to cancel plans with her friends all because he wanted to keep an eye on her. During the past week at school he had either driven her to school and walked her inside or had had Kono, Chin, Lori or Uncle Danny do the same. After school, each of them, on different days, had shown up before her practice, stuck around through the entire practice, and then drove her back to her dad's office where she had been forced to sit and work on homework under one of their watchful eyes until late in the night. On one occasion, Wednesday night, she had fallen asleep on the couch in her dad's office and woke up there the next morning due to Five-0 being involved in some late night raid. He had even gone to the extreme of making Lori or Kono accompany her to the bathroom every time she had to go.

"Alex." Steve's voice took on a warning tone. She had crossed the line long ago and he could not, for the life of him, understand why she was so damn persistent and defiant. Taking another step towards his daughter, he said, "Get your butt into my office now and I will _not_ tell you again."

With a final glare in his direction, she pushed past him, intentionally using her shoulder to bump him out of the way. Stopping just outside of the doorway to his office, she yelled over her shoulder, "I wish I was still in Seattle!"

He didn't take any offense to her comment; it was her attempt at trying to make him feel bad enough to take back the punishment he had just dished out. Too bad for her; it wasn't going to work. His comment didn't hurt him as he was sure it had been intended to do but it did make him think. _Me too, Sweetheart. Only because you'd be safer there._

"That was, uh…"

"Yeah." Before Danny could say anything else, Steve said, "Don't ask." He was not in the mood to attempt to explain the reason for his daughter's behavior. He bent down, picked up his daughter's abandoned backpack and, letting out a breath to calm down, turned and headed towards his office.

Reaching it, he stood outside of his office looking through the glass at Alex who was sitting on the couch. He needed another few minutes to completely calm down. In order to have a rational, adult conversation with her about her behavior he needed to be relaxed. Yelling at her would only start another fight, which he did not have the desire, let alone the time or energy, for. Taking another deep breath, he opened the door to his office and stepped inside. Setting her backpack on top of his desk, he asked, "You ready to talk about this like an adult? Respectfully and rationally?"

His question was answered in the negative when she snarkily said, "I don't know. Are you going to keep being a jerk who is keeping me from having any kind of a life?"

"Three more days," Steve told her, shaking his head. "Wanna make it another full week?"

Alex huffed, crossing her arms in front of her and throwing herself back against the couch. Steve allowed them both a minute before joining her on the couch. "I know this week has been tough on you but what you just did – the way you have been behaving lately – is no way to act. That behavior doesn't work for a child and it certainly does not work for an adult."

"Dad," Alex started.

Steve shook his head. "You need to be respectful, regardless of how mad you are. When you yell at me, when you call me names, the only person you end up hurting is yourself."

"But you're not being fair!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and clenching her fists as they hung at her sides. When her dad sighed and shook his head, she unclenched her fists and sat back down next to him. "Sorry," she said, her voice actually sounding sincere. "I just – you're keeping me from doing things with my friends and I don't get any alone time and –"

"Everything I do, Alex," Steve interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. "Everything I do is to make sure that you get to have a life. I know you think that I'm keeping you from 'having a life' but I am doing what I need to in order for you to have a long and happy life." Unable to see her eyes, he reached over and brushed her hair off her face. "I have to keep you safe, Sweetheart."

Locking eyes with him, Alex said, "Wo Fat isn't going to hurt me, Dad."

He didn't answer right away as he stared into those eyes that looked exactly like the ones he saw in the mirror every morning; eyes that held more depth and soul than any other fourteen year old he knew. They were his mother's eyes and it was just another reminder of why they were having this conversation; it all went back to his mother's death. "I hope not, Alex, but I –"

"If he wanted to hurt me," she interrupted, her gaze dropping to the scar on her palm, "if he wanted me dead, he would have done it when he had the chance." Her eyes meeting his again, she continued, "He's the one that told them _not_ to hurt me."

"I know he did, Alex," he replied, kissing the top of her head. Resting his arm around her shoulders, he repeated, "I know he didn't want them to hurt you but things change. This thing – this vendetta – he's got going on, he's not going to stop until he finds what he's looking for and I…" he shook his head. "I just can't risk it." He pulled her closer, hugging her, and placed another kiss to the top of her head. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he continued, "I can't risk giving that man an opportunity to hurt you."

"It's all because of this Shelburne thing?" Alex asked after a few minutes of silence, dislodging her head from under her dad's chin when she looked up at him. "Is that why he had that man murder Grandpa?"

"I think so, Sweetheart," he answered, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to untangle the section she had neglected to brush earlier after her practice had ended. She had neglected it in favor of arguing with him while he drove back to HQ.

She turned so that her back touched the arm of the couch, bringing both legs up to sit Indian style. "Maybe you should just stop trying to figure everything out."

"Alex, Sweetheart, I –"

"You want to know everything, don't you?" Not giving him a chance to reply, she continued, "Grandpa's dead. Knowing why he was killed isn't going to bring him back." A sad expression appeared on her face. "I mean, I wish it could bring him back but it won't. Why can't you just arrest Wo Fat and then forget about –"

"Some things aren't that simple," he told her. "And I know you don't like that answer but it's something I have to do."

"But he's dangerous, Dad." Growing up, she had always worried about his safety. Living with him full-time only added to that fear, especially when she would catch news reports about crime in Honolulu or when he would come home with yet more injuries. Now, knowing that he had a desire to not only arrest Wo Fat but also find out why the evil man had targeted and destroyed their family only increased her fear ten-fold. She didn't want anything bad to happen to her dad; she couldn't lose him. "I get that you need answers." _Kinda like how I need to know why Mom stopped loving me._ "But he's dangerous."

He hated seeing the fear and worry that entered her eyes. He hated knowing that he – his choices – were part of the cause of her fear. But at the innermost core of his being, he knew he had to continue searching for answers to his parents' deaths. To Mokoto's death. To everything. He owed it to Mary, who had been so young when their mother died, who had spent her adolescence living away from him and their father, whose life had taken many wrong turns all because of that pain and confusion. He owed it to his parents, whose lives were cut too short, especially his mother who never got to watch Mary enter her teenage years or meet her granddaughter. He owed it to Alex, who lost the one person who had never caused her any hurt, who understood her better than anyone else, who meant everything to her. Alex deserved to know the truth, she deserved to know why her life had been anything but normal, with him chasing the Hesse brothers around the world for five years and missing out on so much of her life. He owed it to every innocent person out there who had lost a loved one because of Wo Fat's lack of valuing human life. Hell, maybe he even owed it to himself.

"Yeah, he is," Steve acknowledged before giving into a smile. "But you know what I have that he doesn't?"

"Five-0," Alex answered him. "And SEAL training."

"Well, yes," Steve replied, giving into a chuckle. "That's certainly true but it's not what I was referring to." When Alex just gave him a blank stare, he continued, "You. Wo Fat doesn't have a daughter."

"Okay," Alex said, "but what does that have to do with anything?"

He smiled again. "Because love is more powerful than anything Wo Fat might be capable of doing. Being a dad is what got me through a lot of tough situations and knowing that I get to see your beautiful face every day will get me through any danger Wo Fat brings my way."

Alex rolled her eyes and laughed. Her dad could be so cheesy sometimes.

"What?" Steve asked, feigning hurt.

"Nothing," Alex replied. She understood why he said what he did – he was trying to calm her fears about Wo Fat's love for violence – and she knew he did out of love for her. His attempt did nothing to calm her fears; she was always going to worry about him, especially when it came to the man who had already wreaked so much havoc on their family. However, she wasn't going to tell him that. She got onto her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. She kissed his cheek and then, leaning back to look him in the eye, said, "Love you, Daddy, and I'm sorry I called you a jerk."

Steve smiled. His sweet daughter was back. It had only taken a week for him to get some sort of an apology out of her. "I love you, too."

Returning his smile, she sat back down. "Sorry for being a brat this past week."

"Thank you for apologizing," he told her, resting his head on the back of the couch. "Isn't it so much nicer to have a conversation that doesn't involve yelling?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "Am I really grounded for another ten days?"

Steve nodded. "Yes. But if you backtalk or try sneaking out of the house or break your punishment or yell at me, then it will be extended again. Got it?"

"Got it."

* * *

Josh exited Theater Five and headed towards the lobby of the Cineplex. Once there, he looked behind him, making sure that none of his friends, specifically Alex, had followed him out here. He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the phone book, down to the second one listed under M, and hit dial. As it rang, he walked towards the arcade game in the corner and, peering out from behind it, looked through the glass into the mall and scanned the crowd outside.

"Mr. McGarrett!" Josh said, hearing the man's voice answer the phone.

"What's up, Josh?" Steve asked, glancing at his watch. The kids' movie should be starting any minute now. Not even fifteen minutes ago, he and Danny had dropped Alex and Josh at the mall to watch a movie with their friends Tracy and Seth. Alex was technically still on her ten days of grounding – this was only day three – but Steve, that morning, had decided that Alex really did need a break from the house and his office. He was still very much concerned about Wo Fat and the threat he posed to Alex. As a result, he had called in a favor with an old friend who was the current head of mall security. James Franklin, former HPD officer who had worked briefly with John McGarrett, had agreed to patrol the area in front of, and inside of, the theater, all without alerting Alex that he was keeping an eye on her. Steve's nerves had been on edge as he drove away from the mall after making sure the teens made it inside safely. But, now, Josh's phone call had him even more concerned.

"We're okay, Sir, but there's something you should know." He paused briefly until his eyes caught sight of the woman he had spotted earlier while they had stood in line waiting to purchase their movie tickets. He was 99% positive of who she was but he had not wanted to confirm his suspicion by asking Alex. "Mr. McGarrett, um, I think you need to come back here. It's…" He took a deep breath. He hated keeping this from his best friend but he needed to protect her from getting hurt again. "Alex's mom is here."

"What?" Steve shouted, barely giving Danny any warning before slamming on the brakes and performing a U-turn. "She's there? At the mall?"

"Yes, Sir," Josh answered, his eyes following Alex's mother as she passed by the front of the theater and sat at a table in the nearby food court. "I first saw her when we were walking through the mall – she was standing in a store – and then saw her again when we were in line for our tickets. I wasn't sure it was her at first but –"

"Did Alex see her?"

"No, Sir. I made sure she didn't."

"Okay," Steve replied. As much as Alex's friendship with Josh irked him sometimes he was so glad that the boy really did seem to have her best interests in mind. Steve couldn't even imagine what would have happened if Alex had seen Cindy. "Where is she now?"

"Mrs. Aberdeen – I mean Mrs. Connors – is sitting at a table in the food court."

"And Alex?" His daughter's whereabouts were what he had been inquiring about but he was glad for the information provided by Josh. He would get to the mall and confront Cindy; there was no way in hell he was letting Cindy contact _his_ daughter.

"She's in the theater. I lied and told them I had to use the bathroom." Josh sighed. "Mr. McGarrett?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want her Mom to hurt her again."

"I'm not going to let that happen, Josh."

* * *

"She's in there?" Steve asked James Franklin as he and Danny stepped into the mall security office. After his conversation with Josh, he had called Franklin, giving him a brief explanation of the situation and asked him for one final favor. Franklin, still feeling like he owed John McGarrett for saving his ass on more than one occasion when they had worked together at HPD, had no problem with locating the woman Steve described and asking her to accompany him to the security office.

Franklin nodded. "Didn't even put up a fight."

"Thanks," Steve said, shaking the older man's hand before opening the door and stepping inside with Danny right behind him. As they walked to the mall security office, Danny had insisted that he would wait outside while Steve confronted Cindy, but Steve had practically demanded that Danny join him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Steve demanded angrily as the door closed shut behind them. Cindy was sitting at a table in the middle of the room and all Steve could think was how impressed he was that Josh had been able to recognize her. She had changed her hairstyle again; cropped very short and dyed to a brown that was a couple shades lighter than Alex's. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here?"

Cindy swallowed hard. Sure, she'd heard him use that word before but _never_ had it been directed at her. Not even ten years ago, during those long months before they had decided to call it quits, when all they did was fight with each other. "I had to see her. To see how –"

"No!" Steve interrupted, his blood boiling with anger. Resting his palms on the table, he leaned down so he was face-to-face with her. "You do not get to see her. You do not –"

"She's my daughter," Cindy interrupted, keeping eye contact with him. "As much as you hate me, she is still my daughter."

Steve shook his head in disbelief, lifted his right hand, and slammed it back down on the table. Hard. "No, Dammit," he argued, "you are just the woman who 'birthed' her." He was glad to see her wince at that; she obviously remembered using those exact words two months ago. "You have no right calling her your daughter. Not anymore." He raised his voice to emphasize his next point. "You gave her up! You never wanted her, remember? And you treated her like shit because of that. You –"

His face was too damn close to hers but she resisted the urge to slap him. "Maybe I made a mistake," she admitted to him. "Maybe I never should have given up my parental rights."

"Are you _fucking_ serious?" He stood up straight and looked down at her. She had broken Alex's heart; she had caused a wound that would probably never heal. Now, here she was, wanting to know how Alex is faring. _What the hell is wrong her?_ "Get on a goddamn plane and fly the hell home. You lost all your rights to see her, to check on her. You have no right being here and I swear if I find out that you continue to follow her, continue to watch her… if you fucking contact her I will have no problem finding a way to put your ass in jail." Bending down, he got in her face again and yelled, "Stay the hell away from _my_ daughter!"

* * *

**Please read and review! Mahalo!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: tessab, as you requested :) hope it turned out okay as I really struggled with how to write Steve's reaction**

* * *

In hindsight, it probably had been a bad idea to take an extended bike ride after practice, even if it had ended in the surprise of a lifetime. Her and Josh's practices had ended at the same time – which was usually the case on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons– and, like they had before her Dad had gone all paranoid on her, they were going to ride their bikes home or, in Alex's case, thanks to her continued grounding, to Five-0 Headquarters. If it weren't for a case that required every member of her dad's taskforce, she would probably be riding back to the office in someone's truck or car. At least she figured that was the reason why no one had showed up at her practice like they had all of the previous week. Not that she was complaining; she relished the opportunity to ride her bike again.

Excited for this newfound freedom and celebrating the fact that she was able to hang out with Josh again – with the exception of the movie two days ago, they hadn't been able to see each other very much outside of school – they both had decided on a change of plans. They were going to pedal their way over to Pearl Harbor, past the Arizona and Bowfin memorials, and then follow the bike path along the shore. Sure, it would delay the time she arrived at her dad's office and, on the chance that he actually was in the office instead of still working his case somewhere on the island, she would lie and tell him practice had run late. Practice had run late on a couple occasions before; he wouldn't have had any problem believing her.

Yet, of course, it couldn't just be that simple. Because, really, when had anything in her life ever been simple. Or easy. Or _normal_ even.

As luck or fate or whatever it was would have it, some oblivious tourist, carrying a surfboard, stepped out in front of them, forcing her and Josh to quickly attempt to maneuver onto the grass. Suffice it to say, they had failed in their attempt as their front tires hit a rough spot of pavement and down they went. Fortunately for Josh, most of his body had landed in the grass, only suffering from a bruise on his non-throwing arm, minor scratches on his arms, and a bloody knee. She, on the other hand, had a wrist that felt strangely heavy, although she didn't think it was broken, a bleeding elbow, a scratch on her chin, and a bloody knee. Seriously, could she _ever_ catch a break?

With the tourist who was to blame for the accident sincerely apologizing, they had both risen from the ground and made their way to a nearby bench, taking their bikes with them as they did. Josh requested some first aid supplies from the first aid kit in the tourist's rental car and, while the man, accompanied by his wife and little boy, headed off to procure those items, Josh pulled out his phone and dialed his father. Then he had headed over to a shaved ice stand to get some ice for her wrist which had started to swell. She watched as he dialed a second person – her dad, she assumed – and then was startled by a female biker who stopped on the bike path near her.

She recognized both the bike and helmet that the woman wore; she and Josh had first spotted her weeks ago during their normal bike rides home after practice. After that first day they had spotted her, she had traveled along roughly the same path as them – sometimes she was coming towards them, other times she was ahead of them, and others she was trailing them – up until two blocks before home – Josh had always made sure she got home first before heading to his own house – but they had never stopped to say hello. The only contact they had ever had with her – she was just another bike rider among many who they saw on a daily basis – was a brief wave of 'hello' on a handful of occasions. It wasn't until that moment, when the women stopped on the path, that Alex realized she had never even seen the woman's face thanks to her and Josh's distracting conversations as they rode.

As Alex braced her injured wrist on top of her thigh, the sunglass wearing woman dropped her bike – that was unusual for a habitual bike rider – and quickly approached her, squatting in front of her. "Honey, what happened? Are you okay?"

If she didn't know any better, Alex would have thought she was having a heart attack due to how fast her heart began to beat. That voice, those lips, that nose; they were all so very familiar. The only thing different was the hair: it was very short and the color was darker. Reaching out, she removed the sunglasses from the woman's face. "Mom?"

* * *

"You need to calm down right now!" Steve yelled as he slammed the truck door closed behind him.

"Calm down?" Alex stopped in mid-jog and turned to face him, standing in the middle of their front yard. "Calm down?" she repeated. "You knew! You both knew and you said nothing to me!" They had just arrived home after a tense showdown between her parents at the site of her and Josh's bike accident. After her mom had joined her on the bench – her mom had opened the first aid kit delivered by the tourist and had proceeded to clean her wounds – they had talked for a few minutes before Josh returned with a bag of ice. After introducing Josh to her mom, he had disappeared again to make another phone call. She wasn't sure how much time had passed thanks to having a _real_ conversation with her mom but the next thing she knew her dad was there. After checking over her injuries, all hell had broken loose.

After her dad had acted like a mega jerk and chased her mom away, she had just stood there, staring after her mom who had gotten back on her bike and headed back in the direction that she had come from. She stood there, staring, long after her mom had disappeared from her line of sight until, from somewhere behind her, she became aware that her dad and Josh were talking in hushed tones. Although she couldn't hear what her dad had been saying – he had long ago mastered the art of whispering – she _had_ been able to hear Josh when he commented that he thought her mom had gone back home. She had turned around, hands on her hips, and they both had fallen silent. Without a word, she had glanced at her damaged bike and then had taken off running, her dad and Josh both shouting her name behind her.

They had caught up to her in her dad's truck – Josh was going home with them until his dad finished at the hospital with Sam who had gotten sick at school that day – ten minutes later. She had only climbed into the truck so that her dad wouldn't cause yet another embarrassing scene but she had not made it easy on him or Josh, demanding, angrily, that they tell her how long they had known her mother was back in Hawaii. Finally, they had both admitted the real reason Uncle Danny and her dad had been at the mall the other day before the scheduled pick-up time. Josh had spotted her mother while they had stood in line purchasing their movie tickets and, instead of telling her, he had hidden it from her, using the false excuse of having to use the restroom as soon as they had found their seats so he could go call her dad and tell him. To say she was mad was an understatement.

"You _both_ knew she was here and you –"

"Alex," Steve started to say, "let me expl—"

"Don't talk to me!" She yelled, eyes flashing with anger. "She is my mom and you had no right to –" He had treated her mom horribly – it was so different than how he used to treat her – and it had hurt to witness that scene.

"We had to, Alex," Josh said, interrupting her. He flinched a little at the hateful look she gave him. "We had to protect you."

"Protect me?" Alex stared at him in disbelief. "Protect me?" She shook her head. "I don't need _you_ to protect me, Josh, I need you to be my friend."

Josh glanced at Steve for a moment before squaring off against his friend. "What did you expect me to do, huh? Tell you that your Mom was following us around the mall? That would have just hurt you and confused you all over again. You wouldn't have known what to do: choose to let her back into your life or get the hell out of there as fast you could. You're my best friend, Alex, and I did what I had to do to keep you from getting hurt." When she didn't say anything in reply, he stated, "You would have done the same thing if it was my mom standing there."

"No," Alex said, arms crossed in front of her. "That's where you're wrong, Josh." She reached up and undid her ponytail in an attempt to soothe the headache she felt coming on. Running her fingers through her hair, she continued, "I _never_ would have made that choice for you. I would have let you decide what you wanted to do and then I would have supported you in that decision." She narrowed her eyes at him, at them. "She is _my_ Mom and it was _my_ choice to make; not yours and not my Dad's. You both had no –"

"Your mom is not supposed to be here, Sweetheart," Steve told her needlessly, trying to figure out how to handle this situation. Scrambling, he opted for the cold-hard truth. "She gave you up, Alex. She hurt you. Her being here again is going to hurt you. We were just protecting you." That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

"I'm not some little, helpless girl who can't take care of herself!" Alex yelled at him. "Everyone on this stupid island thinks they have to protect me!"

"Alex –"

"I'm sick and tired of being the one everyone thinks they have to look out for, like I'm some fragile doll that's going to break when life gets shitty." Alex didn't care anymore; she was mad and she was going to make sure he knew it. "I get that you need to protect me from Wo Fat but Mom isn't Wo Fat."

"Alex—" His attempt to calm his daughter down was thwarted by another interruption.

"Why can't you both just leave me alone?" Not giving them a chance to answer her, she continued. "You had NO right to go behind my back and keep it a secret that my mom wanted to see me again."

* * *

Alone. Utterly and depressingly alone. She hadn't felt like this since September 20th, 2010, that day her grandfather had died. That painful, hollow ache in her heart had stuck around for a long time until June 1st, that moment when her dad had hugged her in the hospital hallway after she had been freed from her kidnapping. Sure, her relationship with her dad had still been rocky after that day but at least she hadn't felt alone since then. But now…

Now, it seemed appropriate that she was all alone at the head of the pack of runners on the cross-country practice course, as she pushed herself to run faster than she had ever run before. Choosing to run harder, until she either reached the point of exhaustion or threw up, gave a physical outlet to all of the emotions she had been feeling since yesterday afternoon. So much anger, so much confusion, and so much hurt; running – running like _this_ – allowed her the opportunity to attempt to sort it all out in her mind. Not that she was having any luck.

The sight of the football field visible through the trees of the course provided a stark reminder that her friend – one of her _best _friends – had lied to her. Josh's betrayal – the secret he shared with her dad and had kept from her – hurt and, for some odd reason that she couldn't quite understand, made her feel like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle and he was the missing piece. Seeing him in school that day – she hadn't said a single word to him – had only added to the sting that had entered her heart the previous afternoon. Seeing the pained look on his face in the cafeteria when she had walked right by their usual table to sit with a group of girls from the team had made her feel bad for a few minutes but then the reminder of yesterday made her angry all over again. As she had sat there with her teammates, listening to them laugh and talk about cute upperclassmen, she had felt all alone. Over the last few months, Josh had become a constant source of steadiness and, for some reason, not sitting next to him made her feel lost.

It wasn't just Josh – or the _lack_ of the Josh she thought she knew – that made her feel alone. The man whom she had started to view as a second father, who provided comedic relief in otherwise tense situations, who was so incredibly easy to talk to, and who shared her deep love of baseball had also known her mom was in town and had kept it from her. Since Uncle Danny knew, it only made sense that Chin, Kono, and Lori had also known. So many people knew and no one – not a _single _person – had thought it important to let her know. Of all people, she was the person who deserved to know that her mother was back in town, hoping to give their relationship another chance. She wondered if she ever would have found out; thank God for the bike accident.

That question in and of itself confused her, as did so many other things. Her mom had been riding her bike near them for weeks now, but had never said anything, had never done anything to let Alex know that it was her. If her mom really wanted to make things right, why did she wait so long to contact her? If she and Josh had never crashed their bikes, would her mom still be playing the role of just another bike rider? Or would she still have revealed her true identity to her? Then there was the ultimate question: why was her mom back, wanting to make things right again, just as she was starting to learn how to deal with not having a mom anymore?

Forcing herself to swallow the taste of bile – she was determined to not throw up until _after_ she reached the finish line – she focused her attention on the straightaway. Half a mile to go. As she cleared the tree line, she spotted the person – up until now she didn't know who to expect – who would be driving her to HQ. She had really hoped it would not be her father who would pick her up today but, sure enough, it was the man who had lied to her, treated her mom like crap, and given her another three days of grounding for the extended bike ride she had taken yesterday. Acknowledging that avoiding him was out of the question, she replayed her thoughts from the last three miles. By the time she crossed the finish line – with a personal and team best of 17:46 – and vomited into a trashcan, she had made up her mind about what she wanted – no, _needed_ – to do.

* * *

"You do realize that I am all sweaty and dirty, right?"

Steve glanced at his daughter and laughed. Loose strands of hair were adhered to her still flushed face; it was beyond obvious that she was sweaty. "Your point is?"

"My point is," Alex drew out with a roll of her eyes, "that normally I'm allowed to shower before I'm loaded in someone's car and taken to your office." She took a drink of water from the bottle she was holding. "You could have at least let me wash my face and rinse my mouth out."

"We're kinda busy at work," Steve told her, not that he needed to explain himself to his daughter. He was the parent; she just needed to do as he said. "And you wouldn't need to rinse your mouth if you hadn't pushed yourself –"

"Did you not hear Coach Sheehan?" she interrupted, anticipating what he was going to say. After she threw up in the trash can near the finish line, Coach Sheehan had expressed his amazement at how quickly she had completed the course. He had been concerned about the fact that, by doing so, she had thrown up but he had also told her that, if she ran like she did during today's practice, she would be taking home the State of Hawaii High School Girls Cross-Country Championship medal on Saturday. "I thought you wanted me to be the state champion."

Steve sighed. Despite all of her denials, she still acted like she had something to prove to him and he didn't really understand why. Even if he had his assumptions. "I want you to do your best." Catching her eye, he continued, "But not wind up sick doing it."

"A little vomit never hurt anybody."

"Watch your tone," Steve told her, shaking his head in disappointment. Over the course of the last six weeks, the tone of the majority of the words coming out of her mouth were disrespectful, sarcastic, full of contempt, or just downright rude. "And you can shower in the locker room at my office."

Alex's face broke into a pleased grin before she forced herself to suppress it. Her dad had just given her an even better idea on how to approach the topic than the one she had settled on before finishing practice. Maybe this discussion could work to her advantage. "How about you drop me at Halekulani and I can shower there?"

"Halekulani?" Steve asked, raising his eyebrow in question. Halekulani was one of the most expensive hotels on the island, sitting directly on the water in Waikiki, with single night rates running from $435 for the smallest guest rooms to $7,000 for some of the larger suites. It was, simply, a gorgeous hotel with stunning views of Oahu and Steve could only dream about ever being able to afford a stay in a hotel like it. In fact, he had only been there twice. Once was to interview a Concierge regarding a case and the second time had been when he and Alex had met Cindy and David for dinner at La Mer, which resides within the Halekulani hotel. "First off, you can't just walk into a hotel and ask to use a shower. Secondly, even if that was allowed, why would I drop you off at a ritzy hotel for the afternoon?"

"I want to see mom." Her dad should have pulled a muscle in his neck by the way he jerked his head to look at her.

"You… what?"

Geez, did he suddenly become deaf or something? "I. Want. To. See. Mom," Alex repeated slowly.

Steve shook his head from side-to-side. _Cindy's now staying at Halekulani; good to know._ Only a few days ago – Steve had looked it up after the incident at the mall – she had been staying at the Hilton. Interesting that she had moved to a different hotel. "No. Absolutely not."

"What? That's not fair!"

"Don't start, Alex," Steve warned. "I am not in the mood to deal with your attitude today."

"Another reason you should drop me off to –"

"I said NO," Steve stated again. He didn't care if Cindy was her mother or not. There was no way in hell he was dropping his daughter off to see the woman who had caused her so much pain.

"I can see her if I want," Alex told him as she silently reminded herself to keep calm.

Steve shook his head again as he maneuvered his truck onto King Street. "No, you can't."

"She is my mom!" Alex stated. The volume of her voice was much louder than before. "She wants to see me."

Stopping just short of the parking lot because of traffic, Steve looked at her. "And I am your dad." He expelled a breath that was full of nothing but anger – directed entirely at Cindy – and then repeated, "I am your dad and I –"

"Forget it," Alex said, taking off her seatbelt and opening the passenger side door. Grabbing her bag off of the floor, she continued, "I'll just go shower at your stupid office." Hopping out of the truck and onto the sidewalk, she slammed the door behind her and began running across the grass in the direction of the statue of King Kamehameha I.

Steve gave into another sigh as he watched his daughter run towards his office building, her brown ponytail bobbing side-to-side as she did. Once he saw her enter the building, he turned his eyes back to the traffic in front of him, finally responding to the blaring horn behind him. As he finally turned into the parking lot, his thoughts were on Alex and how, yet again, Cindy was – and had been for awhile – damaging his relationship with her. He missed the relationship he had built with Alex. He missed having a conversation with her that didn't result in one or both of them yelling at the other. He missed running with her every morning. He missed her hugs. Most of all, he missed looking at her and knowing, deep in his heart, that she was completely happy living with him because, for weeks now, he hadn't been so sure. He missed his daughter.

* * *

"Slow down, Steve," Danny said, sitting up on the couch. Despite it only being nine o'clock on a Wednesday night, he had fallen asleep on the couch in his apartment not even half an hour ago. He had just been woken up by a phone call from Steve, who was speaking so fast that Danny had not been able to understand a word that had been said. "Slow down and say it again."

"She's gone, Danny." Danny had only heard that plaintive tone in Steve's voice once before: when Alex had been kidnapped. "Alex – she –"

"What do you mean gone?" Danny said, grabbing his t-shirt off the back of the couch where he had placed it earlier. He slipped it over his head, stood up, and grabbed his wallet and car keys off the coffee table as he listened to Steve's reply.

"Gone, Danny," Steve said, his voice giving into that tone which Danny didn't often hear out of him. Danny had no problem recognizing it as one of outright fear. "I was in the garage and when I came back inside she was gone. The door to the lanai…" Steve trailed off. "Oh God, what if Wo Fat –"

"I'm on my way, Steve," Danny assured him, speeding out of his apartment complex parking lot, flipping the police lights on for good measure. "Don't go anywhere. Be there in five."

* * *

"Slow down," Danny panted, looking up as Steve's body disappeared around the corner of the next flight of stairs. Shaking his head and grunting through the pain in his knee, he picked up his pace – he was afraid what would happen if he did not stay right on Steve's heels – and silently cursed Steve as he did. Two more flights of stairs completed and Danny, breathing heavily, opened the stairwell door on the ninth floor and stepped into the hallway. Of course, as he stood there, bent at his middle, hands on his knees and attempting to catch his breath, the smug bastard otherwise known as Steven John McGarrett stood facing a door on the opposite wall, breathing at an absolutely normal pace. Said smug bastard knocked on the door then turned and smirked at him.

"Getting old there, Danno?"

With a final massage over his knee – you know, the one that he had initially injured after following Steve on yet another insane, absolutely ridiculous, overzealous, physically exhausting escapade – Danny straightened himself, sending a glare across the wide span of the hallway. "Nine floors! Nine floors up and where _normal_ people would have taken the elevator _you_ have to take the stairs. The stairs!"

Steve shrugged and turned back towards the door. "The elevator was too slow." Raising his fist, he pounded on the door again. "Cindy! Open up!" Relentless, he continued pounding on the door, "Open the goddamn door!"

"Maybe she's not here," Danny suggested, holding up his badge to show the concerned hotel guest down the hall who had just stepped into the hallway. As he made his way to Steve's house earlier, he had called Chin, letting him know that Alex was missing and that Steve suspected Wo Fat had taken her. Chin told Danny that he would inform his cousin and, together, they would head to HQ and, using the technology at hand, try to determine if Wo Fat was still on the island and, if so, if he had anything to do with Alex's absence. Upon arrival at the house, he found Steve in full panic mode and, after getting him to explain in a little more detail what had happened – Steve had been working in the garage on his dad's car and upon return to the house he had discovered the door to the lanai wide open, chair knocked over on the lanai, and Alex missing – and, after telling Steve that Chin and Kono were pursuing the Wo Fat possibility, Steve suggested that perhaps Alex's mother had taken her. Apparently the woman had told Alex that she missed her and wanted to spend time with her again. With Steve running out of the house and hopping into his truck, Danny had followed behind in his car. Now, here they were. "Maybe she –"

Pounding on the door with both fists now, Steve said, "I swear to God, if she took Alex –"

"Steve?" Cindy asked, opening the door and then tightening her robe around her as she spotted the two men at her door. "What –"

Pushing his way into the room, Steve demanded, angrily, "Where is she?"

"What?" Cindy asked, clearly confused. "What do you think you're doing? You can't just –"

"I can do whatever the hell I want," Steve said, turning around to face her, standing toe-to-toe as he glared down at her. "When it comes to _my _daughter. Where is she?"

"If you mean _our_ daughter," Cindy replied, wrapping her arms around herself, "then I don't know. I haven't seen her since you attacked me the other day after her bike accident."

"Mind if I verify that for myself?" Steve asked. Not waiting for a response, he said, "Thanks," and began moving quickly through the large suite, opening doors, checking every room, under the beds, in the closets.

"Alex is missing?" Cindy finally asked Danny. Danny actually felt sorry for the woman – she truly appeared to be concerned for her daughter – and Steve acting like a crazy person wasn't helping matters any.

"Yes, Dammit," Steve said, rejoining Danny and Cindy in the entryway to the suite. "And I swear to God that if I find out you took her, if you are hiding her someplace –"

"You son-of-a-bitch," Cindy said, taking two steps forward and slapping him. "How dare you even suggest such a thing!"

* * *

"I got her, Steve," Danny said, leaving a voicemail as he glanced at the girl sitting in the passenger seat of his car. "Head back to your house when you get this and we'll meet you there." After leaving Cindy's hotel room, Steve, with a handprint shaped bruise on his cheek, had received a phone call from Kono, who informed him that there has been no sign of Wo Fat being on the island. That is, not since Joe White's encounter with him a couple of weeks ago. Frustrated, and clearly distressed, Steve had insisted that he and Danny split up and head in different directions searching for any sign of Alex.

Danny had driven around for nearly half an hour when he finally spotted the teenager, sitting on a bench in the general vicinity of the Aloha Tower. Danny could think of worse places for a teenage girl to be by herself at this time of night but, either way, she was going to be in trouble. "Do you have any idea what your dad has been through in the last hour and half?"

"I—"

"He was scared to death, Alex," Danny said, not giving her an opportunity to respond. "Scared to death that something had happened to you; that someone had taken you again."

"Uncle Danny –"

"No," Danny interrupted, shaking his head. Alex wasn't his daughter but that didn't matter; Steve wasn't the only one who had been concerned about her whereabouts. "You listen to me. Listen to me good. Don't you _ever_ do something like this again!"

* * *

"Where the hell have you been?" Steve yelled, stepping into the front yard and running towards his daughter as she got out of the Camaro. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?"

"Dad, I –"

"I swear to –" Steve started, clenching his fists at his sides. Rethinking his words, he raised his arm and pointed towards the house, "Get your ass upstairs and into your room. If you so much as move an inch outside of your room…"

"Okay, okay," Alex interrupted, carefully sidestepping around him. "I'm going."

"An inch, Alex," Steve reminded her. "Move an inch and –"

He was interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming closed behind his daughter. He expelled an angry breath, then turned back to look at Danny. "Thank you and I'm sorry for –"

"Don't, Steve," Danny interrupted, holding up his hand. "I would have done the same thing if it was Grace."

Steve nodded and blew out another anger-filled breath. "How am I – what do I do about this? How do I…" he trailed off, the shake of his head symbolizing just how lost he was in how to deal with his daughter.

"I don't know," Danny admitted. "But, just so you know, I yelled at her. I know that's your job but –"

"It's okay, Danny," Steve assured him. "Feel free to yell at her whenever she does something absolutely stupid, like this, without thinking first."

If it were any other situation, Danny would have commented about how Alex had taken a play right out of Steve's own playbook – act first, think later – but this was certainly not the time for that. Instead, Danny wished his friend good luck, got back into his car, and headed home, hoping that Grace would never pull an antic like the one Alex had just pulled.

* * *

**Please read and review, especially if you've never reviewed before. Let me know what you like, don't like, who your favorite character is, your favorite thing about this story, etc. Reviews make us writers happy. Mahalo!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: There's a lot of dialogue in this one but it demanded to be written. Thanks for all of the reviews so far! And tessab: I think you were in my head again when you suggested part of this - great minds think alike, LOL!**

* * *

A frustrated Alex slammed her Geometry book closed and pushed it to the side. Looking down at her notebook, she ripped out the top sheet, inked with anything _but_ her answers, and crinkled it into a ball. It joined about a half dozen more of its' siblings in a pile that rested to the left of her textbook. It was absolutely useless; her mind wouldn't settle down long enough for her to concentrate on her homework. She had spent the last hour attempting to complete her homework but, like Geometry, her Japanese, Chemistry, and History assignments also remained untouched. She glanced at her watch – it was nearing the hour mark for how long she had been sitting at this picnic table on school property – and then glanced at the direction of the football field where the Varsity team was still practicing. She did not need to be standing on the sidelines to visualize Josh, wearing his gear and practice uniform, breaking out of a huddle and walking to the line of scrimmage. She had heard – she still was not speaking to him – talk in the hallways at school that he had been struggling this week at practice. She really hoped he had a better practice today.

With nothing else to do, and at a loss as to how to clear her mind, Alex dropped to the ground and started performing pushups. She had every intention of doing pushups until her arms gave out – maybe a little bit of muscle fatigue would help take her mind off _other_ things – but the arrival of the person who had gotten stuck with what she called 'Alex pick-up duty' ruined that idea. "Thirty-six."

Dropping to her knees, Alex looked up at Chin's count. "What'd you do to make my Dad send you?" She didn't mean for that to sound so harsh; everyone in her dad's office had to be getting tired of playing the role of occasional babysitter to a fourteen year old who was more than capable of taking care of herself.

"I volunteered actually," Chin told her, collecting the paper balls off of the table and depositing them into a nearby trash bin. "You ready to go? I thought we could go for a ride," he nodded towards the distant parking lot, where his motorcycle was parked, "and have a bite to eat."

"You brought your bike?" Alex couldn't hide her excitement as she jumped up and began gathering her books. She had loved riding on Chin's bike when she was 10; she loved it even more now. "Let's go!" She stuffed her things into her backpack as Chin picked up her sports bag. Grinning at him, she took off for the parking lot, leaving him behind as she sprinted towards the motorcycle.

* * *

"What are we doing here?" She asked as she placed the motorcycle helmet onto the seat that she had just vacated. She looked out at the scenery from the Makapu'u Lookout; a place she had not expected Chin to bring her to when he had suggested eating dinner together. Makapu'u Lookout had been a place her grandfather had brought her – multiple times, in fact – during her visit to see him – it was where they had conducted their morning walks together – and, as a result, it was one of her favorite places on the island. Yet, she couldn't remember the last time she had been up here.

Chin shrugged as he handed her a bag containing their beverages. "Just figured we could catch up; it's been awhile since we talked." That part was certainly true – it had been weeks since he and Alex had engaged in a real conversation. He only neglected to tell her that he had something specific in mind to talk to her about. He hadn't even told Steve what his intentions were when he had volunteered to pick up Alex. Oh well, that could wait for now. Showing Alex the bag of food, he gave into a grin of his own. "But first, let's eat."

"You got shrimp from my favorite place!" Alex said excitedly as they started walking towards the benches that looked out over the island below.

* * *

"So, how's it going?"

Alex, legs dangling off the side of the ledge, looked at Chin and shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

Chin allowed his eyes to search hers for a few moments. "You sure? 'Cuz you and your dad have been warring with each other a lot lately." He was responded to by a mere sigh from the teenager. Despite her refusal to answer, her body language told him she was not upset or angered by his chosen topic of conversation and he took that as an open invitation to continue. "I'm worried about the two of you. That fight this morning was pretty intense."

He was referring to the screaming match he and Danny had witnessed at five-thirty that morning in the office. Walking in during the middle of their argument, they had heard Alex express that her father needed to "stop being a jerk" and that she wished he would just leave her alone. She then had screamed that she didn't need him to take care of her because she had done well enough on her own when he had elected to not see her for two years. Of course that had only added to Steve's anger – he clearly was still riled by the stunt Alex had pulled the night before – and Steve had responded with yelling of his own. They had continued arguing, completely oblivious to his and Danny's presence, until he and Danny had intervened with Danny pulling Alex by the arm into his office – he later drove Alex to school – while he had taken Steve down to the training room to let off some steam on one of the punching bags housed there.

"All he does is yell at me," Alex replied, her watery eyes focused on the horizon. "He yelled at me last night, too, and never even gave me the chance to explain."

Chin didn't reply for a few moments as he carefully considered his words. "There are a lot of things going on that your dad is worried about. He cares about you and –"

"Yeah," Alex interrupted, "well, yelling at me all the time isn't the best way to show he cares."

"You haven't exactly been very respectful or nice to him, either," Chin pointed out, keeping his voice relaxed and calm so he would not upset her. Fighting with her – making her mad – was the last thing he wanted out of this conversation. "You're guilty of yelling, too." Alex dropped her head at that, her eyes staring at the Nike checkmark on her shorts, but she never said a word in response.

Chin knew she was feeling guilty and ashamed. Good, maybe getting through to her would be easier than expected. He allowed her several minutes and, when she still didn't answer, he tried a different approach to get her talking. "What would your grandfather say about the way you've been acting?"

The teenager shrugged. "I don't know." Misty-eyed, Alex looked at Chin. "All I know is that he wouldn't yell at me. He _never_ yelled at me. I mean, he reprimanded me when I did something wrong but he _never_ yelled at me."

Chin knew that already; he'd spent enough time with John McGarrett to know how he was with his granddaughter. "I suppose that's probably because he was your grandfather." When Alex's eyes betrayed her lack of understanding, he continued, "My _kapuna k__â__ne_ was a great man; very wise, very gentle. I had a rocky relationship with my dad and, after he died, I asked Tutu how it was possible for my dad to be his son because all my dad did was scream at me. Or it seemed that way, anyways." Chin took a sip of his drink and then continued. "Tutu explained to me that parents, sometimes, have to yell at their kids…" He trailed off as he looked over at Alex. Her eyes remained on him. "Your dad is a good man, Alexandra, and an even better father. He loves you more than anything. He loves you and wants what is best for you."

"But, then why – I don't – how..."

"You're a good kid," Chin told her. "You're a good kid," he repeated. "And your dad is proud of you every single day but he's also worried about you – it's not like you to skip school or break your punishment or argue with him all the time – and last night you scared the hell out of him. It scared all of us."

"But –"

He shook his head to stop whatever she had planned on saying. "You need to think about this from his point of view." He raised a finger as he continued, "First, you were kidnapped and it just about killed your dad. He didn't sleep, he barely ate; he was in worse shape than any of us had ever seen him. Your dad's greatest fear – that something bad would happen to you – occurred that day you went missing. The best day of his life, after your birth, was the day you were found." He raised a second finger. "Last night, when he couldn't find you, he was terrified that his worst fear had become reality for a second time. He was terrified, Alex, and to find out that you had just left without so much as a note or text to tell him where you were…" he shook his head. "Especially after you knew how concerned he was about Wo Fat. I would have reacted the same way if you were my daughter."

* * *

"Thanks, Chin," Steve said, walking him to the door. Chin had called him just over an hour ago, saying he and Alex had finished eating dinner and that he would be bringing her home. Finding out that Steve was headed to a last minute meeting with the Governor, Chin had offered to stay with Alex at the house until he came home. When he had walked through the door five minutes ago, Chin was sitting on the lanai, speaking to his girlfriend Malia and, according to Chin, Alex was upstairs working on her homework.

"Anytime, brah," Chin replied, opening the front door of the McGarrett home and stepping outside. Turning around to face Steve, he said, "I know she's been driving you crazy lately – I'd probably be the same way if I were you – but I think she realizes that she's been messing up a lot lately. She's pretty stubborn," he gave into a smile, "she is a McGarrett after all. And I know you still probably want to yell at her about that fight you two had this morning but, a word of advice? Just go talk to her. Listen to her and I'm pretty sure she'll repay the favor."

Steve nodded. "You're right: she's been driving me up the wall. Everything she's been doing for the last six weeks has only reminded me that being a parent is the hardest job in the world. I love my kid but sometimes…" He shook his head, changing his train of thought. "Anyways, thanks again."

It took him fifteen minutes to walk upstairs and, upon reaching her room, Steve had calmed down enough to resist the urge to yell at her for her behavior that morning. As it was, he was still slightly shaken from the fear that had coursed through his veins for an hour and a half the previous night. His daughter was out of control – her behavior had gotten steadily worse over the last few weeks – but, he knew that to make any progress with Alex, he needed to be cool, calm, and collected. He was losing her and, even though he knew it was because she was hurting, he had absolutely no idea how to help her. He was afraid that, if he didn't figure out a way to re-connect with her soon, he might just lose her for good.

He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly as he stepped into Alex's bedroom. He spotted her sitting at her desk, several closed textbooks stacked in the corner and one open textbook in front of her. She had iPod ear buds in her ears, her head was bobbing in time with the music, and she was busy writing in a notebook. He stood fast for a few minutes, just watching her work, before deciding to interrupt by tapping gently on her elbow. Looking up at him, Alex removed one of the ear buds and Steve could hear a Bruno Mars song that he had gotten all too familiar with over the last few months. "How much more homework do you have left?"

"I'm done with the stuff that's due tomorrow," she told him, setting her pencil down. "Now I'm just trying to finish the stuff due Monday." With Josh's last football game and her last race of the season – both were for the championship – and a BBQ at their house on Saturday night, she did not want to have to worry about doing homework over the weekend.

"Okay," he replied, taking a few steps back and sitting on the edge of her bed. Facing her, he continued, "Can you take a break for a little while? We need to talk."

Alex shrugged. She wasn't sure she was ready to talk to him but she knew she didn't have any choice in the matter. "Sure." She turned off her iPod, removing the other ear bud, and set it on the back corner of her desk. Turning in the chair, to face him, she said, "But if it's about you grounding me until I'm fifty, then I already know that."

Steve couldn't help it; he smiled at her comment. He attempted for some humor, hoping Alex would react better to that approach. "I'm not grounding you until you're fifty," he told her, giving into a shrug, "just forty-nine and a half." And… fail. Locking eyes with hers for several minutes, he said, "Seriously, we need to talk and not about me grounding you." Technically, he hadn't even decided if he was going to add any more days onto her current grounding timeline; changing how he dealt with her misbehaviors might be the better alternative. "Where did you go last night?"

"I went for a run."

"Where to?"

"The Aloha Tower Marketplace."

"The Aloha Tower…" Steve's jaw dropped in surprise. "That's eight-and-a-half miles away."

Alex gave him a shrug in reply, as if running that distance was the most natural thing in the world. But, then again, this was his daughter they were talking about – when they used to run together in the mornings they would run just over seven miles. Another mile and a half wasn't that much more; in her case, it was only another ten minutes or so.

"Well, I shouldn't have to tell you that running by yourself at nine at night –"

"It was 8:15 when I left," Alex interrupted, even though she knew it was futile to try to plead her case. Her dad was beyond pissed off that she had gone for a run last night without telling him – Chin had made her realize that she had royally screwed up – but she had to make sure he had all the facts right.

His daughter could be quite the smart ass; he had absolutely _no_ idea where she got that from. "8:15, 9:00 or three p.m.; you should not be out running by yourself. Especially not all the way to –"

"I know that, Dad," she interrupted, lifting one leg and balancing her chin on her knee. "I didn't plan on running that far."

"You left," he replied, his eyes never breaking contact with hers. "You left without telling me where you were going. Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I discovered you weren't here? I thought –"

"I know I scared you, Dad" she interrupted. "I know I scared you – Uncle Danny and Chin told me you thought someone took me again – but I couldn't be inside anymore. I had to go running."

Steve studied his daughter's face, hoping her eyes would offer more than her words were saying. Unfortunately, being his kid had given her the excellent ability to visibly mask her feelings. Even from him. "What do you mean you _had_ to go running?"

Alex shrugged. "You do pushups; I run."

"Alex," Steve prompted in that tone of voice that told her she needed to stop being so evasive with her answers.

"I just…" she shrugged again, looking down at the chipped pink nail polish on her toes. "Running usually helps me sort things out in my head."

"If you needed help figuring things out, you could have come found me in the garage," he told her. "I would have stopped what I was doing and we could have talked. Now, please, tell me why."

"Because I felt like I was suffocating," she spat out, if for no other reason than to keep him from yelling at her all over again. "And you're not exactly the easiest person to talk to sometimes," Alex continued quietly, as if a lower volume would lessen the sting of her comment. "I try to tell you things but you don't listen."

He did not entirely agree with her statement because he didn't really see himself as the kind of father who did not listen when his kid was speaking to him. He felt he was more present than that. Despite his own thoughts on the matter, his daughter felt differently and he owed it to her to be present in _this_ moment. "I'm listening now, Alex."

She raised her head, looking at him again, and asked, "You'll listen without interrupting?"

"I can do that." His reply was accompanied with a nod of the head.

"And without making me feel like what I want or need doesn't matter?"

He had not realized that he had been making her feel that way. _Note to self: pay better attention to how you respond to her._ He nodded. "Okay."

"First, I told you I want to see Mom and you won't let me," she told him, forcing herself to keep her emotions in check. She knew her mom was a sensitive topic in their house – for both her and her dad – but it still angered her to know that her dad wouldn't even consider the fact that she wanted – no, _needed_ – to spend time with her mom. "I've also told you how I feel like I'm a prisoner because you don't let me do anything by myself; someone is always watching me." She stood up and walked to the window, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed in front of her chest. "You don't let me hang out with my friends. You don't let me have any 'me time'. I can't do anything – even use the bathroom at your office – without you or Uncle Danny or Chin or Kono or Lori or Kamekona accompanying me. You haven't let me go to Tracy's even when her parents were home. You haven't even let me go to Josh's when Mr. Sullivan is there."

Steve waited several long moments until he was sure his daughter was finished speaking. "Okay, Alex, I hear you."

"Did you just hear me?" Alex asked him. "Or did you _listen_ to me? There is a difference, you know."

Sending her a look that told her she needed to watch her tone of voice, he answered, "I listened to what you said. I _understand_ everything you said."

"Okay."

"Okay," Steve echoed. "Will you let me talk now without interrupting?" When she nodded, he continued, "First, I'm sorry if I've made you feel like a prisoner – that wasn't my intention – I just want you to be safe. I hope you can understand where I'm coming from. I hope you can understand why I did what I did – you are my daughter and it is my job to keep you safe. You are the best thing I have ever done with my life and I have to do everything I can to keep you from getting hurt." As he talked, he noted that Alex uncrossed her arms, finally releasing some of that tension she had been carrying around for the last few weeks. "We've talked about this before – about Wo Fat – and I know you don't think he's going to do anything bad to you but…" he shook his head and sighed, before continuing, "until I know for sure that he's not on the island anymore, I can't risk it."

"I get that, Dad," Alex said when she was sure he was done explaining. "I understand that you have to keep me safe but the bathroom? Seriously? Do you realize how awkward it is for everyone when they have to listen to me pee?" She decided to join him, sitting down next to him on the edge of her bed. "And I really need some time by myself to figure things out."

"Okay," Steve said. Maybe having Lori and Kono accompany Alex into the bathroom at HQ had been a little over the top; having them inspect the bathroom prior to Alex entering would have been sufficient. "No more Kono or Lori listening to you pee. And about this 'alone time': I gave you some alone time last night – I trusted you with that opportunity – but you ran away. You broke my trust. How can I know that I can trust you again?"

Alex was quiet for a few minutes as she chewed at her lip. Finally, she looked over at him. "I guess I have to prove to you that I can be trusted again." She shrugged. "Not really sure how to prove that to you, though. And I didn't _run away_; I went for a _run_."

"Well, for starters," Steve told her, "no more running off by yourself. No hopping out of the truck and running inside when you're mad at me. No going for long runs – regardless of what time of day it is – without me. No going anywhere without first asking my permission." Giving her a stern look, he continued, "And we're not going to play a game of semantics. Run or run away, it doesn't matter; you left without telling me. Got it?"

Alex nodded. "Got it." She reached over and rested her hand on top of his. "I'm sorry I scared you last night. I'm _really _sorry I made you think someone kidnapped me again. And I'm sorry I said I do a better job of taking care of me than you do; that's not true."

* * *

Three blocks away, the man sat in his rented Silver Lexus, listening to the conversation between the girl and her father. He had been following the teenager for weeks, patiently learning her daily schedule and following her as she left school on those days she rode her bike. He had even managed to watch a few of her races – it was impossible for anyone to recognize him now – and he was grateful for the opportunity that had presented itself last week. Nine days ago he had watched as the entire Maika'i loa Academy student athlete population had headed to their respective practices. Then, after seeing the school's Security Officer leave the building that housed the locker rooms, he had grabbed the listening device out of its case and entered the building. Locating the all-too familiar backpack, he had pulled out a used textbook – Chemistry if he remembered correctly – and hid the tiny device inside of the binding of the book. Since then, he had been privy to Chemistry lessons and dull high school conversations that he had guessed had taken place in the cafeteria. He had only been able to tolerate two full days of that before he had remotely turned off the device; the device turned back on at 4:30 every afternoon, at that precise moment when some adult – one of those stupid Five-0 cops – picked her up from practice. During the course of the last week, he had listened to numerous fights between the two McGarrett's and now, thanks to his remarkable ingenuity, he had been given wonderful news – the girl would no longer be accompanied to the bathroom at Five-0 Headquarters. Grinning, he pulled the car away from the curb and began formulating his plan. If nothing else worked, he could always use her mother since he now knew what _she_ looked like.

* * *

"Okay, so I will start letting you go to your friends' houses as long as their parents are home," Steve said, giving his daughter a smile. "_And_ as long as you check in every hour. I'll also let you go home with Josh on those days Mr. Sullivan picks him up. Other days you will have to come back to my office. Okay?"

Alex nodded and smiled. "Okay. I will stop breaking the rules and my punishments. I will stop sneaking out of the house. I will stop running off when you're talking to me and I will stop going for runs without telling you. Deal?"

"Deal."

"So what about Mom?"

"What about her?" Steve asked, knowing full well what his daughter wanted him to say. He was not ready to fight with her again and he feared the reasoning for his decision would do just that.

"I want to see her."

"I know you do, Alex."

"Then why won't you let me see her?"

Steve shook his head. "Because, Alex– I can't let your Mom hurt you anymore. I let her get away with hurting you for a long time. I know that a big part of the reason you have been acting out is because of how much she hurt you." He kissed her on the temple and looked at her again. "I love you too damn much to allow her to add to your hurt and confusion. I can't let her do it anymore. Not again."

"But she's my Mom," Alex told him, her voice taking on a tearful tone. "She's my Mom and, no matter what, I still love her. I can't hate her. I've tried but I can't."

"I understand that, Sweetheart, but sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, you still have to let them go. Sometimes it's more important to protect your own heart."

"No, Dad," Alex said, standing up and walking to the window. Turning to face him, she leaned back against the wall again. "You know how you told me that you can't just let this thing with Wo Fat go? That it's just something you have to do? Well, this is something I have to do."

"I don't understand, Alex," Steve admitted, his eyes searching her face for answers. "I thought you told me that you didn't think you could believe her anymore. That you don't think you can trust her anymore."

Alex nodded. She had told him that at one point; that hadn't changed any. "I never said that I do believe her."

"Then why, Sweetheart," Steve asked, "why – if you don't believe her – do you want to spend time with her?" He knew exactly what was going to happen – he'd seen it happen before – and he simply could not allow Alex to fall for Cindy's lies again.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Dad." She shrugged. "What if – what if she's telling the truth and she really does want to be in my life again?"

"What if she's not?"

"That's just it, Dad," she told him. "I have to know. I'd rather know for sure that she doesn't than spend the rest of my life wondering if I missed out on a chance to have my Mom back."

* * *

**A/N: My apologies if Chin was OOC; for some reason I have a really hard time writing him! **

**Please read and review! Mahalo!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews. It'd be awesome if I could get 10 or more for this chapter ;-) especially since over 300 individual users viewed the last chapter I posted. :-) **

**I had not expected this chapter to be finished this quickly. It was written in about six hours and provided me a lovely break from studying for a exam on pesticides (yes, it's as boring as it sounds; I'm only taking the course because my employer is making me and I get paid to take it). I'm actually quite pleased with how this chapter turned out. Hope you feel the same way about it.  
**

* * *

"You haven't made me coffee in quite awhile," Steve commented as he walked into the dining room carrying a cup of coffee. He moved past his daughter, who was sitting at the table, to stand at the windows that offered a spectacular view of the early morning beachfront in the backyard. He raised the mug to his lips and took a sip. Noting his daughter's silence, he glanced back at the table where she sat toying with the beaded bracelet – the one Josh had made for her – on her left wrist. She was running her fingers over each and every bead; the contemplative and sad expression on her face made him realize that she had still not forgiven her friend.

He pulled out the chair at the end of the table – she sat on the side of the table facing the backyard – and, setting his coffee mug down, sat down near her. Studying her face, he acknowledged that she was probably lost in her own world, completely oblivious to his presence. Placing a hand over hers, he said, "You should talk to him."

Jarred out of her thoughts, she turned her face and looked at him. "What?"

With a nod towards the bracelet, Steve answered, "Josh. You should talk to him; forgive him."

Sitting back in the chair, she observed, "I thought you didn't like Josh."

Steve shook his head. "I never said I didn't like him, Sweetheart. He's a good kid actually." He gave her a smile. "I just don't like you being that close to a boy, _any_ boy."

Alex rolled her eyes before returning her focus to the bracelet. "Yeah, well, you don't have to worry about that anymore; he hurt me with what he did."

Under any other circumstances Steve might just rejoice in the fact that she was seriously considering ruining her friendship with a boy but even he could admit that Josh Sullivan was a good friend to his daughter. When Josh had called him about Cindy being at the mall, his respect for the boy had magnified. Josh had known that Alex would be mad if she found out they were both keeping that secret from her – and she _had_ been extremely mad when she found out – but, still, he did what he thought was best for his friend. Josh had been truly concerned about Alex not getting hurt again and, for that, Steve was grateful. He could and would not allow his daughter to destroy a friendship with Josh, who had proven that he had Alex's best interests in mind. "I know that but you have to think about it from his point of view. You offered me that courtesy last night when you allowed me to explain myself; he deserves the same courtesy."

Her only response was a shrug so Steve chose another approach. "Have you talked to Alyssa or Brian about everything that's been going on the last few weeks? About your mom being back? About what Josh did? Have you talked to Tracy or Seth about it?"

"Alyssa's on a school trip to Shanghai," Alex replied, taking a drink from her glass of soy milk. "Brian's in Paris because his grandma's in the hospital. Tracy and Seth probably know about Mom but it wouldn't matter if they did."

"Why is that exactly?" She wasn't stupid; she should catch on to his point soon.

"Because none of them understand," Alex answered with her eyes on her bracelet again. "None of them have Mom's like…" She raised her head and looked at him; her eyes showed her understanding.

Steve nodded. "Exactly. None of them have Mom's who did what yours did. The only one who understands what you're going through is Josh." Giving her an encouraging smile, he continued, "Josh is one of the best friends you've ever had and it'd be silly for you to end a friendship over one fight."

Alex nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Tell you what," Steve proposed, reclaiming his coffee mug. "How about you think about it while we're out running?"

"You're not gonna go for a swim first?" Even when they had first started running together in the mornings, her dad had, more times than not, gone for a swim in the ocean first. They hadn't really run together in several weeks yet, every morning at 4:45, her dad had continued his swimming regimen.

"Nope," he answered, shooting her another smile. "Go get your running shoes and I'll meet you out front."

* * *

"It's ten in the morning," Danny needlessly pointed out. "Do you really think she's here?"

Steve shrugged. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?" Smirking, he looked at Danny and said, "At least I used the elevator this time."

Rolling his eyes, Danny replied, "You're a comedian, McGarrett, you know that? A true comedian."

"You know you love me, Danno," Steve commented as the elevator dinged, signaling they had reached the desired floor. Stepping into the hallway, Steve led the way as Danny, yet again, asked why Steve had dragged him here. He felt that this was something Steve needed to handle for himself.

"Remember what I wanted to do to her when Alex and I were headed to Seattle?" Steve asked in response to Danny's inquiry. Getting a knowing look from Danny, Steve nodded. "Yeah, well, let me just say that I'm tempted to do something worse than that." He stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath, silently reminding himself that, as much as he wished he wasn't here, he was doing this for his daughter.

"Steve," Cindy greeted, surprise clearly evident on her face, when she opened the door in response to his knock. Her eyes roaming over Danny, she continued with a nicer tone of voice, "Daniel." Her eyes back on Steve, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

Yeah, it was definitely a good thing he had brought Danny with him; just seeing her standing in front of him – she had no right being in Hawaii – made him angry. _Pleasantries, Steven. Be nice._ _You're doing this for Alex._ "Can I come inside for a few minutes?"

"I don't know," Cindy said with a biting tone. She had not forgotten the way he had stormed into her hotel room two nights ago, wrongly accusing her of stealing their daughter from him. "Are you going to accuse me of something entirely unfounded again?"

Steve sighed. "No," he answered, "and I'm sorry about that." He couldn't believe he was apologizing to her – not when she owed him numerous apologies – but he was man enough to admit when he was wrong. And he had been wrong about that and so many other things two nights ago. "Please can I come in?"

"Okay," Cindy replied, staring at him, at the faint bruise on his cheek from where she had slapped him the other night, completely shocked by the fact that she had gotten an apology out of him. Like her, Steve was stubborn to the core; apologies did not come easy to either of them. "Come in."

After receiving a look from Danny, Steve nodded his assurance that he would not bring harm of any kind to Cindy and agreed to meet Danny at the car. Following Cindy into the suite, he gestured towards the living space. Taking a spot on the chair opposite her, he started talking. "If I'm going to allow you to see her, then it will be on my terms and my terms only."

Cindy nodded. "That's fair." Giving into a smile, she added, "I wouldn't have expected any different from you."

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Yeah," he repeated, clearing his throat. "Of course I wouldn't do it any different, Cindy. I have to protect her." Running a hand through his hair, he added, "And let me just add that the only reason I'm here is because of Alex. If it were up to me – if she wasn't repeatedly telling me that she wants to see you – I wouldn't be here, offering you a chance to see her again."

Cindy nodded again, giving into an amused smile. "Well, I guess it's actually a good thing she's so stubborn and adamant then." Locking eyes with him, she added, "And I owe you a 'thank you' for –"

Steve shook his head and interrupted her. "Don't thank me yet. You might not like my proposition."

Cindy stared at him for several moments, trying to gauge his inner thoughts. Long gone were the days when she could tell exactly what was going through his mind just by looking at him. "Okay. So what are you offering?"

"Tomorrow. Two p.m.," Steve replied. "Alex has a cross-country meet – State Championships – and it might be a good way for you to prove that you are serious about being back in her life." If she did show up to Alex's race, and if it went well, then maybe he'd consider inviting her to the BBQ they were hosting at the house afterwards. Unlikely, but maybe. "And, I will tell you right now that, even if you and Alex get along great, even if you play by my rules, I cannot guarantee that I will allow you back in her life permanently because, no matter what that girl thinks of you, I _still_ do not trust you." Standing up, he headed for the door, leaving her sitting on the couch. His hand on the door handle, he turned and looked back at her. "That's my offer; take it or leave it. The choice is yours."

* * *

"See you tomorrow," Alex replied to her teammates, waving at them as they moved down the aisle of the locker room towards the door. Standing, she finished tying her right sneaker, dropped her right leg to the floor, and then lifted her left foot so it was resting on the bench. After tying that shoe, she put her right leg down on the floor and turned back around to the open locker where she had hung her soiled sports bra, shorts, and t-shirt. Despite not being able to actually store anything in the lockers – they were way too small in size – they did, at least, work rather well as a drying rack for her sweat-soaked practice clothes. Grabbing her clothes, she stuffed them inside of her black gym bag where they joined her other pair of running shoes and a pair of socks. Zipping the bag closed, she picked it up and slung it over her shoulder. She picked up her backpack but then, remembering the one item she had not yet put back on after her shower, set it back down on the bench and opened up the small, zippered pouch on the front of the bag. Removing the bracelet, she slid it onto her left wrist and smiled. Now, fully dressed, she could head outside to wait for her to dad to pick her up.

As she exited the female locker room and stepped into the main hallway of the athletics building, Alex had to step to the side as members of the football team were walking three abreast. As she slowly made her way out of the building, she noticed that Josh was not among any of the players. In fact, he was the only varsity player missing from the group. _Weird_. Feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket, she took it out and looked at the message from her dad:

_Gonna be late. Sorry. Stay at school. See you when I get there. Love you. – Dad _

Stepping out into the sun, she quickly typed a reply back: _k._ _C u when u get here. Luv u 2. _Sending the message, she slipped the phone back into her pocket and, with that morning's conversation with her dad still fresh in her mind and _still_ not seeing Josh, headed in the direction of the football field.

When she reached the bleacher area, she saw Josh standing on the sidelines – near the home team benches – speaking with Coach Akana. Her proximity to the field, despite being partially hidden behind a tree, and the way their voices carried in the wind, allowed her to easily listen to their conversation. From the sounds of it, Josh had been struggling all week with hitting his marks. Three weeks ago, he had taken over as the starting quarterback due to injuries to the boys who had been the first and second string quarterbacks. In his first two games as starting quarterback, Josh had led his team to some pretty impressive victories and his individual play had just about been perfect – he had thrown perfect spirals to his wide receivers, had not thrown any interceptions, and had even run for two touchdowns himself. In his third game, last week, he had thrown one interception and had one fumble, yet had still managed to throw for four touchdowns, winning the game that would bring them to the state championships tomorrow. She hated knowing that he had been playing bad all week at practice; doing well and helping his team win the championship game – as a freshman no less – really meant a lot to him.

After Coach Akana departed the field – leaving the two bags of footballs with Josh – Alex watched as Josh, who was completely oblivious to her presence, set up a standing target. She watched his form for his first three throws – he missed all three attempts by a long shot – and then took her chances and stepped onto the track that separated the bleachers from the field. "You're off balance."

Josh startled so much that he dropped the ball he was holding in his right hand and turned to look at her. They stared at each other for many long moments until Josh, recovering from the surprise of her unexpected appearance, asked, "Off balance?"

"Yeah," Alex said, freeing her shoulders of her bags and setting them on the bench. "I'm no expert but it looks to me like you're leaning too far back." She shrugged. "Or maybe you're just over-thinking it, I dunno."

Josh nodded. Over-thinking it was probably the most accurate statement seeing as how his mind had been distracted by things not even closely related to football. Stupid girls. Stupid friends. Stupid girls who are friends and who you wish could be more than a friend. Loudly expelling a frustrated breath, he said, "Yeah, well, I've been like this all week so I doubt it will be any different for tomorrow's game. Might as well not even show up in the morning." Picking up the dropped ball and putting a lot of force behind it, he frustratingly punted it down the field in the opposite direction.

"If nothing else," Alex said, attempting a joke as her eyes followed the ball when it sailed through the upright and hit the track, bouncing off into the grass, "you could just play kicker." When he glared at her and started walking towards the target, she made a suggestion. "Just you and me."

Stopping, he turned to face her. "Just you and me what?"

She wasn't sure if the anger in his voice was directed at her or if he was just that pissed off that he hadn't been playing very well. It wouldn't surprise her if it was at her; she probably deserved it. And more. "Throw to me," she answered. "Like we've done before." What he needed was to throw to someone who could actually run down the field instead of at some stupid, useless stationary target.

"I can't just throw to you," he replied, bending down and picking up a football. "I have to be able to perform certain plays."

"Okay, so tell me which plays," she told him, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. "I remember them all." When Josh had first made the team, even though he was third string, it had been important to him to learn every single play in the team's playbook before their first official practice. So, understanding his desire to prove to his coach that he wanted – and deserved – to play, she had spent one entire Saturday – the day immediately after he had found out he made the team – helping Josh study and learn the plays until they both knew them by heart.

* * *

Climbing out of his truck in the parking lot of Alex's school, Steve headed in the direction of the football field. When he had received his daughter's text message half an hour ago that she would be at the football field instead of the usual pickup spot, he had taken that as a positive sign; she must have heeded his advice and decided to talk to Josh. What he had not expected to see and hear upon reaching the field was the sound of their laughter as the two teens rehearsed choreographed plays, with Alex playing the role of wide receiver as she fielded long passes thrown by Josh.

"Didn't realize you had a wide receiver on your hands."

Steve turned at the sound of Jason's voice. Giving into a proud smile, he turned back to watch the scene taking place on the football field. "Me either." The two men watched as the teens discussed the next play and then moved to the line of scrimmage. When Josh said 'hut', he took a few steps back as Alex dashed straight ahead and then cut diagonally to her left. As if they had performed the play a hundred times before, Alex reached the 25 yard line and then cut back towards the center of the field at the exact moment that Josh released the football. At a full out sprint, she crossed the 15 yard line and looked over her shoulder. Another five yards and she reached out a hand in an attempt to grab the slightly misplaced ball. Fumbling with it, she stretched out her body and dived sideways, grabbing a hold of it before landing hard and sliding on her stomach across the white chalk that marked the end zone.

Concerned, Steve rushed forward but before he had even made it across the track and onto the grass, Alex stood up. Brushing herself off, she grinned at Josh who was running towards her and, when he reached her, they both started to perform a 'touchdown dance' before they gave into laughter. Stopping in his tracks, Steve just shook his head and started laughing. He was soon joined by Jason. "Guess they're friends again," Steve commented.

"Thank God," Jason replied. "That boy has been driving me up a wall all week." Giving into another laugh as he watched his son test out some dance moves, he asked, "You two have any dinner plans? Sam's at a friend's house for the night. Josh and I are just going to grill out in the backyard if you want to join us."

* * *

As she and Josh followed their dad's down the pathway towards the parking lot, Alex reached over and tugged on Josh's t-shirt. Stopping in place, he turned and looked at her. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I shouldn't have yelled at you; I know you were just trying to keep me from getting hurt."

"Alex –"

She shook her head. "No, Josh. I am really sorry. I treated you horribly all week and I shouldn't have done that. You're one of my best friends and I –"

"Alex," he repeated, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Thanks for apologizing but it's okay. Really, it is. And I'm sorry, too; I should have been more understanding."

"I get why you did it. I know that you don't want me to get hurt again."

"You're right; I don't. I don't like to see any of my friends hurt, especially you."

"Thanks," Alex said, giving him a smile. "I want to see her, Josh; I _need_ to see her again."

"I know you do." He shrugged. "I'm sorry. I should have considered the fact that this thing with your Mom is still fresh and raw to you; I wanted to see my Mom again for the whole first year after she left – not that she ever gave me that opportunity."

"Yeah, well, I doubt my Dad's going to let me see her so…" Alex trailed off when she heard their dad's calling for them. They both held up a finger, letting them know they would be just another minute. Looking back at Josh, she asked, "Friends again?"

Josh grinned. "Didn't realize we had ever stopped being friends." Returning his grin, Alex, despite knowing that her dad was watching, hugged him for a long time. She'd deal with another lecture from her dad about hugging Josh later; making up with Josh was well worth it.

* * *

"Josh!" Jason exclaimed as his son darted out of the backyard and into the house. The two of them and Steve had been chatting in the backyard – Alex had disappeared to the bathroom a few minutes ago – when, all of a sudden, they had heard music coming from inside the house. Specifically, the music was coming from the piano that had not been played in nearly six years. "Dammit." This could just end up terribly.

When he, accompanied by Steve, reached the fourth bedroom of the house – the room housed the piano, bookshelves, and a small couch and was rarely used by anyone but Sam for a quiet place to read – he found his son, standing in the doorway, watching Alex play Beethoven's "Fur Elise". Standing next to his son, Jason glanced at Josh and, noting the tears in the boy's eyes, he placed a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder. Josh shook his hand off and stepped into the room, quietly joining Alex – her eyes were closed as she played – on the piano bench. Seeing the tears in his son's eyes, the melancholic expression on his face, and his own mind reflecting back to the last time he had heard that specific song played on the piano, brought tears to Jason's own eyes. Yet, he could not tear himself away from the scene in front of him.

Her rusty fingers coming to a rest as she finished playing, she opened her eyes, noticing that, at some point while she played, she had been joined by Josh. Looking at him, she noticed the wetness in his eyes and the tear making its way down his cheek. "What's wrong?" she asked with a completely sympathetic tone.

Sniffling, he wiped a hand over his eyes. "My mom, she…" He sniffled again and then cleared his throat before continuing very quietly. "My mom used to play the piano. She used to play that song for Sam and I before bed every night." Tears filling his eyes again, he added, "She played it to us right before she loaded us in the car and…" he trailed off, his eyes staring at the ivory keys.

"I'm sorry," Alex told him, running her fingers softly over the keys before reaching for the case and closing it. "The door was open and I saw it… I didn't know."

"It's okay," he told her. "It brings back a lot of memories but…" he gave her an encouraging smile. "Please don't stop. You're really good." Lifting the cover back up, he added, "I didn't even know you played the piano."

Alex shrugged, her fingers running over the keys. "I don't." She dropped eye contact with him and returned her gaze to the keys. "I mean, I did. I haven't played since Christmas." She ran her finger over the mahogany wood, collecting dust as she did. "Besides running it was pretty much the only thing I did that helped take my mind off of things. My grandpa loved listening to me play – "Fur Elise" was one of the songs he always requested I play – and he bought me a piano for my eleventh birthday. I used to play every day." Looking at Josh again, she continued, "Christmas morning I played for an hour before I went to church with Alyssa's family. When I got home afterwards, my piano was gone. My mom sold it." He was the first person after Alyssa that she had told that to.

Josh didn't say anything – he didn't _need_ to say anything – as she turned her face away from him again to look at the piano keys. That was the great thing about their friendship: words were not always needed for them to know that the other person was there for them. Sometimes, sitting in silence together was a greater balm for their hurts than any words could ever do. He allowed her a few minutes of quiet as his eyes flitted over the piano while his mind traveled back in time to more than six years ago. The image of his mom, sitting at this very piano, sheet music in front of her, playing as if she were one with the music, seemed more real to him now than it had in a long time. It had been so hard for so long to call to mind any good memory associated with the piano and, even though he hadn't touched it since that day she left them at the police station, he had always refused to allow his dad to get rid of it. He had never understood why he had not been able to part with it; maybe this moment was why.

"So, um," he said finally, "do you mind playing some more?" He stood up and walked to one of the bookshelves. His eyes roamed over the book titles until they settled on what he was looking for – a self-made bound book that was full of piano sheet music. Pulling it off the shelf, he carried it back to the piano, set it on the stand, and opened it. "My mom and I made this – it's all of our favorite songs to play – and…" he trailed off, giving into a shrug.

"Yeah," Alex said, fingers flipping through the book and reading the various song titles. A smile appeared on her face and she repeated, "Yeah, I'll play some more." She finished flipping through the book and opened it to the first song – Mozart's "Turkish March" – and added, "These are some of my favorites, too."

* * *

Pulling away from the Sullivan house, Steve glanced over at his daughter and smiled. For nearly an hour they had watched Alex play the piano. It was the first time he had ever seen her play and, as her father, he had found himself tearing up at the sight of her graceful hands moving fluidly over the keys, her head tossing in time, the blissful look on her face; it might have been one of the most beautiful sights he had ever witnessed. Seeing her that way, completely relaxed and peaceful, had been such a gorgeous change from the moody teenager he had been struggling to deal with over the last few weeks.

After playing the Mozart song, she had played a good mixture of songs – "Walking In Memphis"; "Hey Jude"; "Ode to Joy"; "Lean on Me"; "Let It Be" – before deciding to play John Lennon's "Imagine", which, much to his surprise, Josh decided to sing the lyrics to. Steve had not expected such an impressive singing voice to come out of Josh – he just had never heard the boy sing before – and wondered if the teenager was just that good at _everything_. After that, Alex decided to play one song – Bruno Mars' "Just the Way You Are" – from memory, which also prompted Josh to sing along. Before too long, the kids were laughing and all sad memories of their mothers were long gone.

Of course, it had just about broken his heart when he had heard Alex's declaration that Cindy had sold her piano – the piano his father had bought for her no less – and on Christmas of all days. Yet another reason to despise the woman that Cindy had become. Learning that piece of information had also made him call to mind the fight he had with his father when he had learned about the piano. He had felt that the gift was lavish, especially as a birthday gift for an eleven-year-old, and he had made sure his dad knew exactly how he felt about it. His words had led to yet another argument between the two. Looking back on it now, he realized it was just another one of those unnecessary things that he regretted ever having done. All that time he had spent angry with his dad over little things when he should have been rebuilding their relationship. Too late now.

"That was amazing," he said, grinning proudly at the memory of it. "You're really talented."

Alex laughed. "I messed up like fifteen times." Looking at him, she returned his smile. "Thanks, though. And if you think that was good you should have heard me two years ago; I was _really_ good then."

"I wish I had heard you two years ago," Steve admitted. "I'm sorry tonight was the first time I ever heard you play."

"It is what it is, Dad," she replied. Her comment was accompanied with a shrug of her shoulders. "I'm not harboring any hard feelings against you for that."

He returned her smile. "Thanks." He debated for a few minutes and then decided, saying, "I'm sorry your Mom sold your piano. I didn't realize that's why you stopped playing."

"It's not your fault she sold it."

"I know," he replied, "but I still feel bad about it."

"It's okay, Dad," she assured him. As much as she loved playing the piano, as peaceful and relaxing it was and as much as it did to help clear her mind, it was _just_ a piano. Other things in life were more important than losing her piano. When her dad stopped at a traffic light a few minutes later, she reached over and rested her hand on top of his. When he looked at her, she said, "I still want to see Mom."

* * *

**A/N: I'm curious: how many of you think Cindy will actually show up to her daughter's race? I already know if she will or not but what do YOU think?**

**Mahalo! Danke! Merci! Gracias! Dank u wel! Grazie! Arigato! Obrigada! Thanks for reading!  
**


	10. Chapter 10

This one is very long. I won't be offended if you don't want to read all 7,444 words of it but I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted so I wanted to leave you all with something to hold you over until then. Let me just add, the characters kind of took over this chapter. Hope you enjoy what they demanded be written!

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**A/N: I am considering (at some point) to write a few stand alone stories, in a sense "outtakes", of specific and special moments; moments that have not yet been mentioned in the story. I have a couple of ideas of scenes that involve John McGarrett, Steve, and Alexandra as well as a few of just Steve and Alex during visits to see each other. My question is: who would be interested in reading something like that? Is there anything specific you would like to see (any prompts you want to give me)? Please let me know if you're interested either via review or PM, even if it's done anonymously. And, yes, I will seriously read all of your feedback/suggestions for things you would like to read, if it is something you express interest in.**

* * *

"What's that?" Steve asked, taking in his daughter's choice of clothing for the day as she sauntered into the kitchen. He had come in from his morning swim just over twenty minutes ago and, although Alex was nowhere to be seen, he knew she was awake as his coffee had been nearly finished brewing on the counter. Seeing her for the first time this morning, he felt a little uncomfortable with what she was wearing. A lack of modesty wasn't the issue; the borrowed shirt was the problem.

"What's what?" she asked in return as she opened the refrigerator door. Removing a carton of eggs, she said, "I'm making an omelet; want one?" She set the eggs on the counter and turned back to the refrigerator, completely oblivious to the look of discomfort on his face.

"Sure," Steve answered, taking a sip of his coffee before answering the first question she had asked. "That," he said, pointing with his finger. "What you're wearing."

"They're called clothes," Alex said, biting her lip to not laugh out loud at his stupid question. "You know, the same type of things you wear on a daily basis." She rummaged through the fridge, loading her arms up with lactose-free cheese, spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes, green pepper, an onion, and ham. Standing up, she nudged the door closed with her hip and freed her arms by setting everything on the counter.

"Don't be a smartass," he gently scolded, setting his mug down on the counter next to the newspaper he had been reading. "You know perfectly well that I'm asking about that shirt."

Her back to him as she bent down and pulled a frying pan out of the cabinet next to the stove, she rolled her eyes. "How was I supposed to know that's what you were asking about? Besides, it's not a shirt; it's a jersey."

"I'm very well aware that it's a jersey," he commented, his eyes lingering on the navy blue football jersey with the number '12' written in white and outlined in yellow. "A jersey that has Josh's name on it, I might add."

To be precise, the away game jersey had the name 'Sullivan' on it, not 'Josh', but, either way, what did it matter to him? "If you know what it is," Alex said, setting the pan on the stove and turning to face him. "Then why did you bother to ask?"

"Why are you wearing Josh's jersey?" He asked, joining her at the stove with coffee mug in hand.

Alex shrugged nonchalantly before turning back around to face the counter. "Because we're going to his game." She set a cutting board and knife in front of him. "Here, cut these please." She handed him the green pepper and onion and then started cutting up the tomatoes.

"And you couldn't just wear what you normally do?"

"He gave it to me to wear," she simply stated.

He just stared at her for awhile and then, realizing that she was completely clueless to why he was having an issue with her wearing Josh's clothes – surely he wasn't the only father of a teenage girl who had the same unvoiced concern – decided to drop it. At least it was just a shirt. If it started to become a habit – if she started wearing more articles of clothing from Josh's closet – then he would have a serious conversation with her _and_ Josh.

* * *

"C'mon, Danno, everyone's doing it," Grace pleaded with her father as they sat in the bleachers at Maika'i loa Academy's football field.

"Yeah, Uncle Danny," Alex piped in, grinning at him. "Everyone else is going to do it." 'It' referred to applying face paint on their cheeks in support of both the school, in general, and Josh, specifically. Before she had left her house that morning she had painted a number twelve on her right cheek and "Go Warriors" on the left. She had brought the paint with her and when they showed up at the field – her dad had been more than gracious with allowing them to get there more than an hour early to watch the warm-ups – she had decorated Sam's face and also Mr. Sullivan's, who only would allow a '12' on his cheek. She had done the same for Grace when she showed up. Now, with her dad MIA at the moment, it was Uncle Danny's turn.

"If everyone else was going to jump off of a bridge, would you do it?" Danny asked her in reply. When a smirk appeared on the teenager's face – that trademark McGarrett smirk that he saw on a daily basis – Danny shook his head. "You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days, you know that?" Next to him, Grace gave into a fit of giggles as she applied a dab of paint to his cheek with a paint-covered finger.

"Uh oh," Steve said, climbing up towards them on the still fairly empty bleachers. "What'd my kid do now?"

"Your offspring here, while beautiful, is also downright frightening," Danny told him, shaking his head at the teenager again. "She basically just told me that, if everyone else was jumping off of a bridge, she would, too."

Alex shrugged when her dad shot her a look as he sat down next to her. "I'd have a bungee cord strapped to me."

"Oh," Steve replied, shooting Danny an amused smirk of his own. "In that case, go for it, Sweetheart. Just make sure a professional is the one who hooks you to the bungee cord."

Alex grinned and Danny groaned. "Insane. You McGarrett's – you two are – I swear you – you're both…" Flustered, he trailed off and started mumbling under his breath. When he did, Alex gave into a fit of laughter. She was soon joined by her father and, not long afterwards, by Grace and Sam.

Steve stopped laughing when he felt something cold touch his cheek. Turning his head, he saw the two nine-year-olds, hands behind their backs, with guilty expressions on their face. "You two think you're funny or something?" The two kids burst out laughing. Using their distracted laughing to his advantage, he stuck both of his index fingers in the blue paint that his daughter was holding. "You know what this means, right?"

Grace and Sam looked at each other then at Steve. Eyes wide, they both shook their heads. "This," Steve said, "means payback." And with that, he put a dot of blue paint on the end of each of their noses. He started laughing at the look of surprise on both of their faces.

Using her dad's distraction to her advantage, Alex dipped the paintbrush into the paint and touched it to his cheek.

"And what do you think you're doing, young lady?" Steve asked, turning his head to look at her.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Alex retorted, giving him a sweet smile.

"Obviously you're painting my cheek," Steve replied, raising an eyebrow to accompany his inquiry. "My question is why."

"Because _everyone_ is doing it, Steven," Danny chimed in, giving Steve a smirk of his own.

"Exactly, Uncle Danny," Alex said, dipping the brush back into the paint. "And your turn is right after Dad's."

Steve shook his head. "And just what exactly do you plan on painting?"

Alex shrugged and lifted the brush. "Oh, I don't know, I was thinking something along the lines of 'I love Catherine'."

* * *

Towering above the rest of the crowd, Steve quickly diverted his eyes from the field and glanced down at his daughter. Her eyes had been riveted on the football field for the entire game. Correction: her eyes had been riveted on _Josh_ for almost the entire game and, as a result, she had barely conversed with her friends Tracy and Seth who had joined them in watching the game. In addition, the tightness of the game had caused Alex to suddenly acquire the habit of biting her nails. If he hadn't literally slapped her fingers away from her mouth, she most likely would have gnawed on them until they had started to bleed. If that wasn't worrisome enough – he doubted more and more each day that Alex and Josh were _just_ friends – he had noticed that, multiple times throughout the game, usually right before a crucial play, Josh had taken a few moments to look at the crowd, to look at their location in the stands, until his eyes locked on Alex. Only then would the boy return his attention to the huddle.

Turning his focus back to the game, he looked at the scoreboard: Warriors, 21; Waveriders, 27. This was not looking so good for Maika'i loa Academy. With seven seconds left in the game and it being fourth and 31, Josh's team needed a touchdown and subsequent field goal in order to win. Going thirty-one yards in seven seconds was not unheard of but this was high school football not some NFL team with years of championship games under their belts. He hated doubting the boys that made up the Warrior team – hated doubting Josh – but he remembered the stress that came with playing in a high school football game. Like Josh, he had been a varsity quarterback as a freshman. He remembered that he, also like Josh today, had taken numerous hard hits, thereby hurting his shoulder, before going into the final play. It was stressful; Josh had a lot riding on his young quarterback shoulders.

As Steve watched the last play unfold, it all seemed to move in slow motion. The team broke out of their huddle and walked to the line of scrimmage. The whistle blew. The ball was hiked.

_Six seconds._

Josh received the hike and dropped back with the ball. He faked a handoff to one of the running backs, and then rapidly pulled the ball in, attempting to hide it from the defense.

_Five seconds. _

The running back continued to move up field as if the ball was in his hands. Their deception worked, as numerous members of the opposing team moved to tackle the running back. As they did, the offensive line started to run block, then quickly transitioned into a pass protection. Likewise, the wide receivers, who initially appeared to be blocking for the running back, moved into their routes, heading down the field.

_Four seconds._

The running back was brought to the ground. Only then did the opposing team realize their mistake. Shifting their focus, they moved towards Josh.

_Three seconds._

Josh dodged one tackle and then brought his arm up as he prepared to throw. One opposing player got a hand on Josh's non-throwing shoulder and started to pull him to the ground.

_Two seconds._

With impressive strength, Josh pulled himself free of that second attempted tackle. Spotting an open receiver in the end zone, Josh, now standing near the 36 yard line, pumped his arm and let the ball soar.

_One second._

And continued through the air.

_Zero seconds._

The ball sailed – it was one of the most beautiful passes Steve had ever seen thrown by a fourteen-year-old boy – and arched through the air. The wide receiver – Steve couldn't remember the kids' name – jumped, fumbled momentarily with the ball, and then, in something that was nothing short of a miracle, got his hands on the ball. Pulling it into his body, he fell into the end zone.

And the crowd erupted.

* * *

Ten minutes later when the players dispersed to go find their families, Steve, Danny and Jason watched as Josh made his way over to them. The game football in one hand, his helmet in the other, he climbed the bleachers – it was not lost on any of the three men when Josh ignored the calls of several older cheerleaders – and headed straight towards Sam, Grace and Alex, his eyes meeting Alex's as he did.

"You did it!" Sam yelled, jumping towards Josh when he reached them. Struggling to catch Sam with his full hands, Josh settled for a hug, wrapping his arms around his brother and tightened his hold on him so he wouldn't fall.

Carefully setting Sam back down, Josh pushed the football into Sam's chest. "Here ya go, buddy."

"This is the game ball?" Sam asked, his eyes wide with excitement. Looking up at his brother, he asked, "You're giving me the game ball?"

"Brother of the quarterback always gets the game ball," Josh told him, grinning.

"You mean the _winning_ quarterback," Sam corrected, before throwing his arms around his brother. "Thanks, Josh."

Stepping around his youngest son, Jason pulled his eldest into his arms, not caring if he embarrassed him or not. "Excellent game, Josh. I am so proud of you." Pulling back, he looked his son in the eyes and said, "Amazing! You played amazing!" He hugged him again.

"Thanks, Dad," Josh said when his dad finally let him go. He grinned at Alex before turning to Grace. Bending down in front of her, he said, "I know it's not the game ball but I thought you might like this one," Josh told her, pulling a small football out from inside of his helmet, "because it's pink." He had purchased the ball earlier in the week, right after he had found out from Sam that she would be attending the game. He viewed Grace as somewhat of a little sister; he couldn't just opt to _not_ give her anything. Not when Sam was getting the game ball.

"Cool!" Grace said, before turning around and showing it to her father. "Look, Danno, a pink football! Thanks, Josh!"

"You're welcome, Grace. Hi, Mr. Williams," Josh responded distractedly as his attention was back on his best friend.

Seeing the smile that appeared not only on Josh's face but also his daughter's, Steve took a step down so he was standing next to Alex. "Great game, Josh!" He stuck his hand out, hoping it would cause Josh to focus his attention away from his daughter – he'd had enough of their shared looks and silent communications. If he had to see that one more time, he'd probably die of a stress-induced heart attack.

"Thanks, Mr. McGarrett," Josh replied, shaking Steve's hand.

At least the boy was respectful and polite enough to look him in the eye when he spoke to him. That made Steve's urge to strangle him decrease just a little. When Josh's gaze drifted to Steve's right – back to Alex – Steve glanced at his watch and then said, "Sorry, Alex, but you'll have to talk to Josh later; we need to head to your meet." It was not a lie. They really did need to head to the Ka'a'awa Valley, where the state championship cross-country meet was being held. Alex's coach wanted his team there an hour and a half prior to start time; if they didn't leave now they would miss that deadline. Lightly grabbing his daughter's forearm, he started pulling her down the bleachers with him.

"See you at my meet?" Alex asked, looking back up at Josh as her dad led her down the bleachers.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!" Josh shouted back, shooting her another grin.

* * *

"And with a time of 18:11," the woman announcing the winners said, "the 2011 Girl's Cross-Country Champion: Alexandra McGarrett of Maika'i loa Academy!"

Watching his daughter walk onto the stage, Steve's smile grew even wider, matching the loudness of his hands as he clapped them together and his voice as he cheered for her. He was proud of her, not only for running her heart out, but for doing it here of all places. This place where, six months ago, she had spent one entire night by herself, bleeding and in pain, before walking for hours to get to the safety of the road. When they had first found out that the championship meet would be held at Ka'a'awa Valley – the first time in Oahu history – they had both had to deal with a little anxiety. They hadn't talked much about it since then but earlier, as his truck had brought them closer and closer to the valley, Alex had started to grow nervous. Although her nightmares had vanished for the most part – it had been weeks since she even experienced a minor one – Steve knew that being back there – having to run through the same jungle that she had survived in – was going to be tough on her. Yet, like the brave kid that she was, she had faced her fear head on and, sure enough, she had been the first girl to cross that finish line. With a pretty impressive time at that!

He watched as the medal was placed around her neck. Then she took a step backwards to stand next to the girls who had come in second and third place. As the announcer started calling the name of the third place boy, Steve saw Alex's eyes searching the crowd – they had not been given a chance to congratulate her yet – and, when they locked on him, he gave her a reassuring smile. He knew that she was nervous standing up there; she hated to be the center of attention, especially in large gatherings such as this one. She returned his smile and kept her eyes on him; he loved that she was able to draw strength from such a simple act. He pulled out his cell phone and snapped a couple of pictures of her – Danny, Chin and Josh had all taken responsibility for snapping a photo as she had received her award – grinning at her when she shook her head at him. He snapped another photo when all six teens posed for the obligatory official photo and then, as they departed the stage, the announcer said, "Hold on a minute, Alexandra. We need you up here for just a few more minutes."

When her eyes found his again, he gave her another reassuring smile. This – whatever it was – would be even more nerve wracking for her; being the only student on stage would be far more embarrassing than being on stage with five other students. The announcer urged her to stand next to the podium and, when a confused Alex was in place, the woman continued, "Every high school sport season, individual athletes from each of the different sports are recognized for certain traits that go above and beyond what is expected of them. This includes those moments of unselfishness, such as was displayed by this young lady, during which she chose to aid a fellow runner in a moment of need, thereby forfeiting her own hopes of winning a race. For exhibiting a true concern for other people, and for putting the needs of others above her own, the Hawaii High School Cross-Country Association has chosen to acknowledge Alexandra McGarrett as this year's recipient of the Good Citizen Award." Turning to face Alex, the woman continued, "Congratulations, Alexandra, and thank you for your wonderful example of selflessness."

* * *

"There's my insanely beautiful, intelligent and downright _amazing_ daughter!"

"Da-a-ad," Alex said, rolling her eyes as she allowed him to pull her into a hug. He could be so embarrassing sometimes, especially when he said stuff like that as loud as he possibly could without screaming. After stepping off the stage, she had been surrounded by her teammates who had again congratulated her. Then, someone from the school yearbook staff had insisted on yet another group photo. After that, they had all headed off in different directions, looking for their families and, as she had started to move in the direction of where her dad had been standing, she had been stopped by Tracy and Seth as well as a few other students from her classes. By the time she had actually been able to head in his direction, he had been walking towards her, all by himself, with a huge smile on his face.

Steve gave into a chuckle, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Congratulations, Sweetheart. I am so incredibly proud of you." Letting go of her, he said, "Now, let me see what you have here." Alex handed him the crystal stand-up plaque, engraved with both the name of the award and her name. He kept one arm wrapped around her shoulder, tucking her in against his side. "This is really nice," he told her, pulling her into another hug. "I just want to say again how proud I am of you."

"Alex!" The sound of running feet coming towards them, Alex broke free of her dad's embrace to see Grace and Sam. Behind them, at a much slower, normal walking pace were Josh, Mr. Sullivan, Uncle Danny, Chin, and Kono.

"You won!" Grace exclaimed at the same moment that Sam shouted, "You did awesome!" They both threw their arms around her. Then, they both got distracted by the medal hanging around her neck so, instead of standing hunched over while they got a better look at it, she removed it from around her neck and held it in her hands. As they inspected it, Alex looked past them and smiled when everyone else reached them.

"Way to go, kiddo," Danny congratulated, stepping up first to hug her as Mr. Sullivan and Josh both said, "Congratulations, Alex."

"Ho'omaika'i'ana," the cousins said, moving into hug her after Danny stepped aside.

"Thanks. Mahalo," Alex said, putting the medal back around her neck. She made eye contact with all of them and smiled. "Thanks for coming and supporting me. It really means a lot to –" In fact, it was almost the greatest feeling in the world, knowing that these wonderful people loved her, cared about her, and supported her as if she were family. Only one thing could make this better.

"You ran a great race, Alexandra." Hearing her mother's voice from behind her, she froze in place for a few moments and then turned around.

"Mom!" she said, oblivious to the looks that passed between everyone behind her. Now, it _was_ the perfect day. She crossed the few feet that separated them and hugged her mom, relaxing under the kiss her mom placed on the side of her head. Taking a step back, she asked, "How did you know –"

"Your dad," Cindy interrupted, shooting Steve a grateful look over their daughter's shoulder. "He told me about your race." Giving her daughter a smile, she added, "I am so glad I got to see it; you did an amazing job."

"Is that true?" Alex asked, turning around to face her father. "You invited Mom?" When he answered her with a simple nod of his head, the last thing he had expected was another hug. Yet, three seconds later, that's exactly what he received from her. "Thanks," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Yeah," Steve replied, placing another kiss on the top of her head, handing the plaque off to Danny when he gestured for it. Danny looked at the plaque before sharing it with everyone else gathered there.

Stepping backwards, her back now to everyone but her dad, Alex looked up at him and asked, "Can she come to the barbecue?" Steve didn't answer right away as he looked over her head; first at Cindy and then at the other four adults. "I… I don't know, Alex."

"Please," Alex said, her eyes pleading with him. "Please," she repeated, forgetting everyone else who was there, "I really want Mom there."

Uncomfortable with the situation he now found himself in – he should have realized that Alex would request that he allow Cindy to join the get-together at the house tonight – he, again, didn't reply right away as he mulled it over. As his daughter looked at him, with those beautiful eyes of hers, he saw Danny gesture with his hand that they were all going to head out. Steve nodded and, as they all moved past them to head to the parking area, Josh nudged Alex with his hand.

"Alex," he said when she didn't respond to his touch. She had pretty much forgotten all about the rest of them when her mom had shown up. He wasn't mad about it, not in the least, as he would have probably been the same way if his mother had been standing on the sidelines of his football game this morning. Not that _that _would ever happen. No, he wasn't angry that her mind was in a world of its own; concern and worry were better descriptions of what he was feeling about the situation. "See you in a little while, k?" he said as he handed her the plaque.

"Yeah," Alex nodded, her eyes on him but her mind clearly elsewhere.

Josh grinned. "And nice job kicking Kailani's butt in that race." Even though Kailani Parker had apologized for bullying Tracy and for the role she had played in Alex getting hurt at school, Josh still did not like the junior girl. Although Alex had forgiven her, he always felt like Kailani's apology had been insincere. As it was, to this day, she still tormented kids on some days, usually from the safety of hiding behind her computer screen. He couldn't stand Kailani Parker and it made him so happy when Alex had taken over Kailani's role as best female runner on the cross-country team. He loved it even more when Alex had continued to beat her in every single race that season.

Alex returned his grin and quickly hugged him. "See you later."

* * *

"So who gave you a ride?" Alex asked her mother as they climbed into her dad's truck. Her dad had finally relented and given her mom permission to come to the barbecue that would be starting at their house in an hour-and-a-half. Of course, he had not exactly been happy – really annoyed was more like it – when her mom had asked if she could ride to the house with them; she had not driven herself to the meet.

"David."

"David?" Alex asked, sliding forward and leaning forward between the two front seats. "I didn't know David was here."

"He flew in yesterday," Cindy replied, glancing at Steve when he climbed into the driver's seat. "He dropped me here before going to a work meeting."

"Oh," Alex said, still leaning forward as both of her parents buckled their seatbelts. "He was actually okay with you not going to his meeting with him?" The better question, which she would have asked if she knew she wouldn't get in trouble for it, would have been what made her mom not want to go with David to his meeting. For the last year and a half that was all her mom ever wanted to do.

Her mom didn't get a chance to answer her as her dad turned around in his seat and asked, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Huh?"

He tugged on his seatbelt. "Put your seatbelt on."

"I won't be able to see Mom if I do."

"I don't care, Alex; put your seatbelt on."

"But, Dad," she protested, "I've always worn it before. Can't you –"

Steve shook his head. "Yes, you have always worn it before and this time will _not_ be an exception."

"Okay, fine," Alex said, sliding back on the seat and buckling the seat belt.

As Steve pulled the truck out of the parking lot, Cindy asked, "So, that plaque you received; what did you do to earn it?"

"I don't think I did anything that made me deserving of it," Alex replied, toying with the medal that was still hanging around her neck. Now _that_ was something that she was proud of; she had run her butt off to earn that medal. In this stupid, kidnapper infested valley of all places.

"Are you serious?" Steve asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. "You are _very_ deserving of that award."

"I guess," Alex muttered, shivering slightly as they rolled down the road where she had been rescued all those months ago. Somehow, during her meet, she had been able to push away all of the memories of the last time she had been at Ka'a'awa Valley. Now those memories were back in full force. She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow her breathing down.

"What did you do?" Cindy asked again a few minutes later, oblivious to her daughter's sudden change in demeanor.

Steve, having glanced at his daughter in the mirror again, noticed the change that had come over her and he knew exactly what was playing through her mind. "Hey, Alex," he said, tapping her on the knee with his free hand. "Grab me a bottle of water out of the cooler, would ya?" He hoped his request would serve as a distraction for her; later, after the barbecue and they were alone, they could talk about it.

Shooting him a look of gratitude, she leaned over and popped the lid off of the cooler that was on the floor behind her dad's seat. She handed him the water and, when he turned to look at her, he nodded his head in the direction of her mom. "I just helped a girl from Kukui High who had fallen down, that's all."

Steve chuckled. Glancing at Cindy, he decided to indulge in a little fatherly bragging because, well, he was damn proud of his kid. "There's more to it than that," he said, unscrewing the lid of the water bottle and taking a drink before continuing, "The other runner fell and broke her ankle at the, what? One and a half mile mark?"

"One and three quarters," Alex corrected, rolling her eyes at him in mild annoyance. He never could just let things go; to him, almost everything she did was brag-worthy.

"Okay, one and three quarters," Steve said, "But, anyways. This girl fell and broke her ankle. Alex saw her and stopped and, while every other runner kept running right past them, Alex stayed behind to help this girl." A smile growing on his face, he continued, "Alex actually carried the girl for nearly a mile before the medics reached them."

"Really?" Cindy asked, turning around to look at her daughter. "You did that without caring about your race?"

Alex shrugged. "I woulda ended up in third probably anyways." Okay, so maybe that wasn't entirely true. She might have very well been able to catch up with the lead runners but that was beside the point.

"But you still finished the race, right?"

Alex just stared at her mom for a few moments. Her mom was more concerned about her finishing what she had started than anything else. She was missing the whole point: it didn't matter if she had finished the race or not. Oh well, some things never changed. "Yeah, I walked beside the stretcher and crossed the finish line at the same time as the injured girl. We were last."

"Last?"

Alex didn't reply to that – she had disappointed her mother, yet again – and, for that matter, neither did Steve. It grew awkwardly quiet in the truck until, a few minutes later, Alex asked, "Dad, can I borrow your phone for a minute?"

"For what?"

"To see the pictures you took," she told him, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. "I want to send them to my phone so I can email them to a couple of people."

"Who exactly do you plan on emailing?" he asked her.

"Aunt Mary," she told him, "And Ca…" she trailed off as she glanced at her mom. "Um, just a friend."

"Alright," he told her, understanding what she did not want her mother to know. He grabbed his phone out of the cup holder where he had set it. Handing it back to her, he said, "but no more emailing photo-shopped pictures of me." Although the last couple of weeks had been hell between them, Alex had still, despite being angry at him, decided to Photoshop two more embarrassing photos of him – what was it with her putting him in a skirt? – before emailing them to Kono, Chin, Lori, Max, Kamekona, Joe _and_ Jason Sullivan.

Alex gave into a fit of laughter as she took the phone from him. "Okay, Dad, I promise. But I do have a couple of other really good ideas. You ever think about how you would look in high heels?"

* * *

"She seems happy," Cindy said, watching Steve as he pulled food out of the refrigerator. "Adjusted."

Glancing at her, he took a moment to respond. Sure, Alex had, for the most part, adjusted well to the move but the last several weeks had not exactly been happy. In fact, the majority of the time since they had returned from Seattle, Alex had been full of anger and tears. But he refused to tell Cindy that; he would not give her that satisfaction. He admitted to himself that it was probably petty but, regardless, he decided to stretch the truth a bit. He didn't know what game she was playing – he was sure that was _exactly_ what this was to her: a game – but he didn't like it. "Yeah, she is," he told her, setting the last bowl of food onto the counter and closing the refrigerator. "She really is. She's doing great at school; has a couple of really good friends. She's learning to surf and she's pretty damn good at it. She's doing very well."

"That's great." Yes, she said those words but her voice spoke just the opposite. Just the mere tone of her voice riled him to the point of wanting to inflict some sort of bodily harm on her. Why had he agreed to let her come again?

"Dad, I need your help," Alex said as she strode into the kitchen, her hair effortlessly hanging straight and her eyes matching the teal color of her shirt.

Oh, right, his daughter had wanted Cindy here. Turning his attention to his daughter, he asked, "With what?"

She held up a necklace. It was tangled, of course. She smiled sheepishly at him.

He shook his head but took it from her. "This is why I bought you a jewelry box."

"I know but I forgot to hang it up," she told him, watching as he set to work on untangling the necklace. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Sweetheart," he told her because, in spite of the amount of time he had spent over the last six months untangling her necklaces, he truly appreciated the time it gave him with her. Every time he had done this for her, every single time without fail, it had served as a great bonding opportunity during which they would talk, allowing them to stay connected with one another. He was grateful for little moments like that because, with every passing day, she was getting older and, one day, not too many years from now, she would be out of his house and no longer asking him to untangle her necklaces for her. He dreaded that day.

He spent a good eight minutes untangling her necklace, with her chatting in his ear the whole time. It had not been lost on him that she had barely said two words to Cindy; they were getting on with their normal lives and Cindy just happened to be a bystander. When he finished with the necklace, he put it around his daughter's neck and clasped it. "There you go," he told her, taking a few steps across the kitchen to where he had set the food down. "Chicken or hamburger tonight?" That was what they had decided on for the grilled items on tonight's menu but she had not yet told him which one she would be eating.

"Shrimp," she answered, grinning at him.

And _that_ was exactly why he had stocked up on shrimp the last time he had gone to the grocery store. His daughter would choose shrimp over anything else on any day. "You're going to turn into a shrimp," he teased, her laughter bringing a smile to his face.

* * *

Laughter filled the air as Steve stepped out onto the lanai carrying a tray of bowls of warm apple cobbler topped with vanilla ice cream. The dessert for the night had been picked out by Josh and Alex – Jason had made a quick stop at the store on the way to the house – and everyone had expressed how they couldn't wait to eat it. Standing behind his daughter, he handed her a bowl – the only one with lactose-free ice cream – before allowing everyone else to take a bowl. The tray empty, he retook his seat, sitting between his daughter and Danny. As Alex took her first bite of the cobbler, her phone vibrated on the table and she picked it up, looking at the caller ID. Shielding the phone from her mom who was seated on the other side of her, she showed it to her dad and asked if she could be excused. Ignoring the questioning look on Cindy's face, Steve agreed, telling Alex to take the dessert with her so it wouldn't melt.

His eyes followed his daughter as she headed for the beach, bringing the phone to her ear when she was halfway there. He smiled inwardly, wishing he could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

* * *

"Congratulations, Alex! I am so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Catherine," Alex said, taking a seat in the sand, propping the bowl on her legs. "Wish you could have been there to see it."

"Me too," Catherine said, smiling at the photo Alex had emailed her a few hours earlier. It was a photo of Steve and Alex, taken some time after Alex's race as the girl had the medal around her neck and a crystal plaque in her hand. They both looked so happy and Steve… well, he was one proud father. "Thanks for the pictures."

"You're welcome," Alex replied, tasting the dessert again. "Maybe next year you won't be deployed and you can come watch one of my races. If you want to, that is. I mean, you don't have to; I know they are kinda boring to watch."

"I'd love to watch one of your races," Catherine assured her. In fact, every single day she looked forward to having that chance. Knowing that Steve and his daughter were back in Hawaii waiting for her to get home helped get through the long days spent below deck. "So, about that plaque…"

"'Member when I helped that girl with the broken ankle?" Alex asked, thinking back to the email she had sent Catherine three weeks ago after her meet. "It was because of that; the Good Citizen Award."

"That's great, Alex," Catherine said, "You should be proud of yourself; you are very deserving of that award."

"Yeah, I guess," Alex replied, still not believing she was worthy of that recognition. "Did I tell you that Josh's team won their game? And Josh got MVP!"

Catherine laughed at the excitement in the teenager's voice. "That's great. Make sure you tell Josh I said congratulations."

"I will," Alex replied before getting quiet for a few moments.

"You okay?" Catherine asked her.

"My mom's here," Alex told her, glancing back at the party in her backyard. "She was at my race and now she's here at the barbecue."

"Oh," Catherine said, thinking about the numerous emails she had exchanged with Alex about her mom. About a month ago, she had received an email from Alex, asking if it would be okay to talk to her about her mom. Alex had stated that it wasn't exactly easy to talk to her dad about her mother but that she needed help figuring some things out. Catherine had been more than happy to act as a sounding board for the teenager but she had also encouraged Alex to talk to Steve about what she was feeling and thinking in regards to her mom. Then, only a few days ago, Alex had told her that Cindy was back in town, wanting to see her but that Steve wouldn't let her. Alex had expressed that she wanted to see her mom, yet Catherine could tell that Alex was still very much confused by everything. "Are you doing okay with her being there?"

"Yeah," Alex answered, before giving into a sigh. "I mean, maybe. I'm not sure. It's weird and I guess confusing."

Catherine let her talk, listening intently, grateful for the extra time she could spare to this conversation. Steve's daughter felt comfortable talking to her, asking her for guidance, and it made Catherine feel appreciated in a way that she often only found through successes at work. Even Steve, at times, was bad at making her feel appreciated. Alexandra on the other hand was a phenomenal kid, one that Catherine could see herself spending a lot of time with in the future – once she was back in Hawaii – and she hoped she had the chance to invest herself in Alex's life full-time.

* * *

**As always, please read and review. And please answer my questions from the A/N above. Mahalo!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: This was not supposed to be up this soon but thanks to being injured again (still?) I've been stuck in my hotel room (I'm only at the halfway point of my six-month stay) all day.**

**I am not responsible for any quotes that are recognizable in the last scene of this chapter; that honor belongs to the writers of the show. That being said, I couldn't just omit including one of the most hilarious scenes from Episode 2.08. All I did was play with a few of the lines so that they acknowledged Steve's role as a dad. Oh, and I have not been able to find any reference to Danny's birthday so, for the purposes of this, I'm making him the same age as Steve, both born in 1977.**

**As always, please read and review. Constructive criticism is always welcome as are anonymous reviews. There are a lot of people reading and following this story but only a handful of those are reviewing. To those who have reviewed, thank you! Your words help keep me motivated to continue exploring this story.**

**Thanks to those of you who answered the question I posed at the beginning of last chapter. I'm considering your suggestions but it probably won't be a long time until I made a decision on if, or how, I will write those extra scenes.**

**Oh, yeah, warning for the one use of the "B" word.**

* * *

"Can I stay with Mom and then you pick me up tomorrow morning for our date?" Alex asked, looking up at her dad as they stood in the parking lot of the Halekulani hotel. They barbecue had ended an hour ago and, after washing up the dishes and storing the leftovers in the fridge, they had hopped in the truck to take her mom back to her hotel.

Steve shook his head. "Not tonight, Alex."

"Alright," she said, her tone betraying her disappointment. If this had been a week ago she probably would have gotten angry with him for not allowing her to stay the night in her mom's hotel room. Now, however, she understood that he was doing what he thought was best for her – he was doing what he could to protect her from getting hurt again – and, as it was, she was already really grateful to him for allowing her Mom to spend most of the afternoon and evening with them. She owed him a huge thank you for that. "Can I see her sometime this week, though?"

"We'll see," Steve said, answering her while eyeing Cindy. "Do me a favor and run inside to the lobby for a few minutes. I want to talk to your Mom."

When their daughter had departed, Cindy asked, "Your date?"

"Yeah," Steve confirmed, nodding his head. "It's something I try to do with her every week." Giving her a pointed look, he added, "It's important that she knows I care. It's important that I know what's going on in her life."

"I want to be in her life, too, Steve," Cindy told him.

He leaned back against the truck. "What made you change your mind?" Crossing his arms in front of him, he continued, "Because not even three months ago you were pretty damn sure of your decision to give her up. You _never_ wanted her; you regretted bringing her into this world. And," he added, shifting his weight to the other foot, "in case you don't remember, as of right now, you are not legally her mother anymore. Technically I do not have to allow you to see her. Technically I have the right to get a restraining order issued against you for violating the—"

"You would never do that," she interrupted, knowing that his love for their daughter outweighed his hatred for her. "You would never keep me from seeing her; not when she wants to see me."

Damn her. And damn him for being so torn. He couldn't stand her but he absolutely loved his daughter. And wanted her happy. That itself was a challenge; figuring out the best way to ensure his daughter's happiness. "I have absolutely no problem keeping you away from her because I still think, at the end of this, you're going to run. Whatever problems you have going on at home will be solved and you'll go back to looking at her like she was the biggest mistake of your life."

It was the first time he had vocalized his suspicions but, since he had first saw Cindy at the mall and, after his research had told him that she had been in town for _weeks_ before that, he believed, now more than ever, that she was using their daughter as an excuse to flee from whatever was going on in Seattle. She had flown to Honolulu by herself five weeks ago and, from the looks of her cell phone records, had barely even talked to her husband before he had shown up yesterday. In fact, she hadn't been in communication with much of anyone since stepping foot off of that plane. Those things, coupled with the news that Alex had discovered weeks ago – that Cindy was no longer employed at the same company – made it all too clear to him that _something _had caused the woman to escape to Hawaii.

"I'm not going to stand here and argue with you, Steven," she said, hitching her purse up a little higher on her shoulder. "Thank you for the ride. Now, if you don't mind, I will go say bye to my daughter." With that, she turned and walked towards the entrance to the building.

Her deciding to not argue with him was yet _another_ sign that things were not quite what she made them out to be. Wanting to be back in their daughter's life did not explain the drastic change in her personality. Two months was too short of a time for her to go from being an argumentative bitch 24/7 to one who absolutely refused to fight with him. Hell, she had never been a woman who had slapped him either – verbal attacks were more of her style – yet that's exactly what happened only a few nights ago. He needed to figure out what she was up to before Alex's heart got broken all over again.

* * *

A knock on his open door caused Steve to look up from his book. "I thought you went to bed." He had planned on talking to his daughter during the drive home but she had received a phone call from Alyssa. Their conversation had lasted for quite awhile – he did not look forward to receiving this month's phone bill – and then Alex had said she was going to bed. That was nearly an hour ago.

"I can't sleep," she told him, still standing in the doorway to his room. She had finally been able to talk to her best friend – as well as the rest of the Boyer family – for the first time in two weeks and, as much as she had enjoyed their many topics of conversation, it had made the wheels in her head start turning. Alyssa had told her all about her class trip to Shanghai, where they had visited the Yu Garden and Bazaar, the Shanghai Museum, the Riverside Promenade or Bingjiang Da Dao as they said in Mandarin, and the Jade Buddha Temple. Her class had also enjoyed a river cruise on the Huangpu River. It had sounded like so much fun; Alex hoped that one day she would also be able to travel to Shanghai.

Then they had talked about everything that had been going on here for the last two weeks: fighting with her dad; her mom showing up; fighting with Josh; getting in trouble for going on that long run; making up with both her dad and Josh; Josh's football game; her cross-country championships. Alyssa and, later, Mrs. Boyer, both expressed that they didn't want to see Alex get hurt again and, although they did not say it that way, Alex was pretty sure they were suspicious of her mom. Their concern made her start to think and she had not had any luck turning her mind off to sleep. Even listening to music had not worked like it usually did.

He patted the bed next to him. "Come on; have a seat."

"Sherlock Holmes," she observed as she sat down next to him, moving the pillow so it was between her and the headboard. "Grandpa used to read that to me." Giving into a smile, she added, "Even long after I learned how to read."

"Yeah," Steve said, calling to mind a vague memory of her, when she was much younger, telling him that the book was her favorite. Now he understood why. "This is one of the things he left for me," he told her, closing the book and setting it on his nightstand. Even though he had given the book a pretty thorough read-through several times since he had discovered it in the Champ box, he still found himself, on the most random of occasions, wanting to read it again. It made him feel closer to his dad, as if he was still there with him. "So, you can't sleep."

"Yeah," she answered, "You'd think I'd be able to after the crazy, busy day we've had."

Steve shrugged. "I get like that too, sometimes." More than sometimes, actually, especially since his father's death. "You doing okay?"

"I think so," she told him, playing with a loose thread on the comforter. She shrugged. "I mean, I missed Mom and I wanted to see her again. I still want to see her again but…" She looked at him. "It was weird and awkward today. At the barbecue anyways."

"I know it was," he told her. That had been made very clear. "You got used to a different schedule and to her not being here."

"Yeah," she agreed, her gaze drifting to the picture frames sitting on top of his dresser. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked her, confusion plastered across his face.

She looked at him again. "For not being very nice to you and for making things harder than they should have been for you. I was hurting from what Mom did and I took it out on you." There was more to it than that but she wasn't quite ready to tell him that. Catherine and Aunt Mary, but mostly Catherine, were still helping her figure everything all out. She was starting to come to the realization that, out of insecurities and pain, she was more than likely testing her dad; testing him to see if he would end up not loving her like her mom had. It wasn't fair to him, she realized that, but she needed some more introspection before she could learn from her mistakes, explain it to him, and then, hopefully, move on.

"It's okay, Sweetheart," he told her, giving her hand a squeeze. "Parents and kids don't always get along. Being a teenager is hard enough. Then, on top of that, add everything you've been through the last six months, and it's tough. It's okay."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a small smile, "but that doesn't give me an excuse to be mean to you. I mean, your teenage years weren't exactly great either. I should have remembered that."

"Hey," he said, "no more apologies; no more beating yourself up about it. Okay?"

"So you forgive me?"

Steve didn't understand why she was acting this way. It wasn't like her to hold onto things like this. At least, that's how she used to be, before her kidnapping, before Cindy walked out on her. He hoped that one day she'd go back to the old Alex; that self-confident kid who never berated herself and never spent this much time worrying about her previous actions. Sure, she always took responsibility for her actions, she always acknowledged when she had done something wrong, but this…this took guilt to a whole new level. "The moment you were born I forgave you for anything you would ever do over the course of your life. You're my kid; of course I forgive you."

"Okay." What she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out was why that logic didn't work for _both_ of her parents. She was still trying to figure that part out and she doubted her mom would ever tell what she had done wrong and why she was unforgivable. If only her mom could forgive her for being a disappointment to her; if only her mom could forgive her for being the person she was. Forgive her and accept her.

She grew quiet and he studied her, trying to determine what it was he was reading in her eyes. Failing, he said, "You did a great job today. I know I've already said it a few times but I am really proud of you."

"Thanks."

He smiled at her in return. "About earlier in the truck – are you still thinking about the kidnapping?"

She shook her head. "No. I was still sort of thinking about it after you asked for the water and I was thinking about when we got home and I was in the shower."

_That explains the twenty-five minute shower._ "Were you thinking about it when you were running?"

She shook her head again. "Nope," she said, smiling. "Not one bit."

"Good," he said, returning her smile. "I'm glad."

"Thanks, me too," she said, before standing up. "Think I'm going to try to go to sleep." When she reached the hallway, she stopped and turned around. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"You remember that dance recital of mine when I was nine?"

Steve thought for a minute. She had participated in two recitals at that age. "The Nutcracker or Swan Lake?"

Alex smiled. So he did remember. "Um, Swan Lake."

"What about it?"

"Where did you have to fly from to make it there to see me?" Ever since talking to her mom that day of her bike accident, she had been doing a lot of thinking about her childhood. Specifically those moments when her dad had surprised her out of the blue by showing up to one of her dance recitals, to chaperone one of her field trips, or to cheer her on at one of her elementary school field days. She also thought about all of those things he had missed. Likewise, she thought about those moments when her mom had been there in support of her and, how, over the years, the number of things she missed far outnumbered those she attended.

He thought for a few moments. _2006. Year two of tracking the Hesse brothers._ "South Korea."

"And when I was in Sleeping Beauty?"

He had no idea where she was going with this, but he decided to play along. "You were eleven, right?"

Alex nodded. "I think it was either right before or right after my eleventh birthday."

In 2008, he had still been tracking the Hesse brothers around the world. That year, he had spent a lot of time moving back and forth between two continents: Asia and South America. In May of that year, he was in the Western Hemisphere, trying to prevent Anton and Victor from providing more arms to a notorious rebel group who had been responsible for the deaths of uncountable civilians and government officials. "Colombia."

"Okay, thanks."

As she started to step away, he said, "Alex, what's going on?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. That's just some stuff I've been thinking about." Giving him a smile, she said, "Good night, Dad. Love you."

* * *

As he drove over to Danny's apartment, Steve's mind was on his daughter and her mother. On Sunday, for his weekly date with his daughter, he had made reservations with Climb Aloha for an introductory course to rock climbing and rappelling. Alex had been climbing things for nearly as long as she had been walking and she had been begging him for months to take her rock climbing. Of course, he had been well trained in both rappelling and rock climbing and probably could have taught her himself but he thought it would be a great experience in teamwork – the class consisted of eight others – and also be safer – Climb Aloha had medical staff on-site – just in case.

The seven- hour course had taken place at Makapu'u Point and he had made sure to take numerous photos of the breathtaking views of Makapu'u Lighthouse, Makapu'u Bay, and the entire windward coast in addition to the multitude of Alex he had taken. The day began with staff demonstrating proper equipment use and addressing all safety concerns. Next, safe rappelling techniques had been taught before the students learned how to set up anchors for top rope climbing. Then, the instructors had demonstrated a basic climbing technique before working individually with each student on their own climbing technique as they tackled several routs of varying difficulty. All of her years of climbing trees and monkey bars – anything she could climb really – must have paid off because she had taken naturally to rock climbing. She had done exceptionally well as she learned crack climbing and how to stem a dihedral. She face climbed on small edges and climbed steeper routes where she made use of careful footwork and skill to overcome the force of gravity. For her last climb up, the instructors had allowed him to climb up on a rope next to her and, the entire way up, she had kept telling him how much fun she was having. He had filed away the memory of her like that – happy, carefree, confident – into that place in his mind where he could quickly pull it out whenever he needed the reminder of the real Alexandra McGarrett.

On Monday morning he had dropped her off at school and, right before she said bye to him on the curb, she had asked if she could have dinner with her Mom that night. He probably had angered Alex a little when, later that afternoon, he told her that she could have dinner with her mom but only if it was at their house and if he was present– he was not ready to let Cindy have unsupervised visits with Alex. After dinner, while he washed the dishes, he had observed the two of them through the kitchen window. They were in the backyard and he couldn't hear anything but he could tell that they had been talking. He had not been sure if that was a good thing or not. Not until Cindy left – David picked her up – and a very quiet Alex had ventured to her room, did he believe that it most definitely had _not_ been good. Alex wouldn't talk to him about it, though, and she hadn't been moody or angry or anything of the like, but her demeanor had been vastly different than it had been the day before on their date and prior to Cindy's arrival at the house. For now, he would give her time to figure things out, while hoping that she would come to him to talk.

Pulling into the parking lot of Danny's run-down apartment building, he headed up the stairs and approached the apartment. Changing his mind about knocking, he quietly turned the door knob and snuck inside. Silently and slowly closing the door to Danny's apartment, Steve gave into a pleased smile. A smile that lasted all too briefly – a mere two-and-a-half steps into the exceptionally small kitchen – as Danny, who was sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, said, "You know buddy, I got to tell you – I'd be way more impressed with your ninja skills if A) the door was locked and B) you didn't call and get the room number."

His right arm resting on top of the refrigerator – he had to blow dust off of it first – Steve rolled his eyes and said, "I'm sorry to disappoint. Next time I'll come through the window, okay?" Glancing around, he added, "Oh, wait a minute – there are no windows." It amazed him that Danny managed to find places like this; thankfully he never had to live in an apartment of this low caliber.

Glancing at Steve briefly before returning his eyes to the television, Danny said, "Do me a favor please, okay? This is obviously temporary until I find something permanent. More important that this place isn't haunted." This hadn't been his first choice of an apartment but when he saw the ghost of a dead resident at the last place, he had no choice but moving here; he should have know that last apartment had been too good to be true.

His arms now crossed in front of him, Steve replied, "Not haunted? You run a blue light over this place the last thing you have to worry about is ghosts, my friend. You know what I'm saying?" He stepped over Danny's elevated legs before sitting down on the couch, leaving his left arm to rest on the back of it while balancing his right leg on his left knee. He glanced at the television, before asking, "What are we watching?" Not giving Danny any time to reply, he spoke up when he recognized the film, "Enemy Mine?"

Danny grunted out a "uh-huh" which prompted Steve to say, "That's awesome! I feel like I'm in a time machine." He shifted slightly before continuing, "Like a tiny little, really badly decorated time machine."

Annoyed, Danny pushed a button on the remote, putting the movie on pause. Turning slightly to face Steve, he said, "I like this movie. I think it's a classic."

_A classic? _They both would have been eight when the movie was released; Steve himself didn't see it until he was fourteen. "Yeah, it's a –"

Steve had to swallow his comment when Danny hushed him up. "If you are gonna be here, I'm gonna have to ask you to sit quietly and give this cinematic masterpiece the attention it deserves. Okay? Can you do that?"

Steve stared straight ahead at the TV. "Yep."

"Thank you." Danny hit play on the remote, bringing to life the scene of a male alien delivering his offspring into the world.

"That's disgusting," Steve said, his face showing just how disgusted he was. He glanced to his left at Danny and did a double-take. It looked like Danny was… no, it couldn't be; there was no way Danny was crying at this movie. "You okay?"

Distracted, it took a moment for Danny to respond. "Huh?"

Steve glanced at the movie then back to Danny. "Wanna tissue or something?"

Danny cleared his throat.

Projecting true concern, Steve asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's the matter," Danny said, although his voice betrayed his annoyance. He sighed. "You weren't moved by that? That little moment, right there? That scene?"

Steve looked at the television again and shrugged. "Evidently, not as much as you."

Throwing his hands up in the air, Danny replied, "Oh, well, I'm sorry that I got drawn into a beautiful film about sacrifice and friendship. I apologize."

"The dude just gave birth." No matter how many times Danny said it, there was absolutely no way that he would _ever_ think that scene was moving, let alone tear-worthy. A _dude_ just gave birth: gross!

His voice louder now, Danny said, "He's an alien. Okay. They got different plumbing on this planet." Using his hand to point at the screen, he added, "I don't know; they're all hermaphrodites."

"I just don't understand why you were crying. Okay."

"I'm not crying," Danny insisted. "Did I – you know what?" He started waving his hand in front of him. "Forget it, forget it, forget it," he said, deciding to go another route. "You're a father. You were there for your daughter's birth, weren't you?"

"Yes, Danny," Steve answered, "Of course I was there for Alex's birth."

"Then what don't you understand about this?" Danny asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Birth is a beautiful thing."

"Alex was a C-Section baby," Steve replied, not understanding how Danny could not understand how gross it was for a _dude_ to give birth. "And the only thing beautiful about that was my daughter." It was the truth, too; he hoped he never had to see a C-Section ever again. Watching a C-Section, watching the doctors set some of Cindy's organs to the side as they worked to get to the baby was downright disgusting. But at the end of all that nastiness was his beautiful baby girl. That was why birth was both gross and beautiful at the same time.

Danny didn't reply for a few moments. Then, he finally said, "You know what? I'll find a cartoon."

"Speaking of cartoons," Steve said, dropping his right hand from where it had been propping up his head. "Are you planning on bringing Gracie here? Because, if you are, as a law enforcement official, I'm required to call the Department of Child Protective Services." His cell phone began to ring and he shifted to have better access to his pocket.

"Oh, you think you're funny," Danny commented. "I'll give it a medium."

Steve clicked the connect button on his phone. "Shh," he said to Danny before answering, "McGarrett." While he listened to the person on the other end of the line, he heard Danny mutter, "Animal." A few seconds later, he said, "Yeah, we're on the way." Hanging up the phone, he stood up, "Put your shoes on."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I was the back seat passenger in a car that got rear-ended last night. I'm a little sore and might have to visit the emergency department later if this headache won't go away. Anyways, that is the reason that this chapter is shorter than it is supposed to be as I did not get a chance to edit the second part of this. Part of this chapter is very Josh-Alex centric: dang teenagers!**

**NYR88 and FicreaderT: your wish is my command**

**As always, please read and review. Reviews of any sort make me happy. Being discouraged is not a good feeling for a writer.**

* * *

As they finished their second really slow lap around the half-mile track, Alex glanced at her friends, asking Tracy specifically, "You doing okay?"

Out of breath, Tracy said, "Think… I gotta… stop… and walk… for a bit." The four of them slowed down and Tracy raised her arms over her head in an attempt to get the oxygen back into her lungs. They walked for another quarter mile and Tracy apologized, "Sorry guys."

She was the least fit out of all of them – being 30 pounds overweight would do that to you – and all three of her friends were, for the most part, natural athletes. Alex was a champion runner; Josh played football and baseball; Seth played soccer. Sometimes, she felt really self-conscious when she was with them yet all three of them accepted her for who she was, not what she looked like. She had always struggled with her weight and, as a result, had been bullied all through elementary school and junior high. She still would be getting bullied if it weren't for Alex intervening all those weeks ago. On Saturday night, after Josh and Alex's athletic seasons were finished, she had asked if they would be willing to start working out with her. She wanted to lose weight – she had for awhile – and finally had the friends who might actually support her in her goal. Of course, they, along with Seth, who had already agreed to it, jumped at the idea and they had made plans to start jogging together after school. This was only the second day and already she felt like she was holding her friends back.

"It's okay," Seth, Alex, and Josh all told her.

"You guys can go ahead and continue running," Tracy suggested, wiping a hand across her sweaty brow. "I'm holding you all back; I'm too slow."

"You're doing _really_ well, Tracy," Alex told her, giving her friend an encouraging smile. "A lot of people can't even jog one lap and you can do two." When Tracy had sent a group text on Saturday night expressing her interest in starting some sort of exercise regimen, Alex had jumped at the opportunity to not only get to spend more time with her friends after school but also share her love of running, and exercise in general, with her. That day she had stood up for Tracy against the bullies, she didn't know anything about her, but, in the days afterwards, when she and Josh had worked their butts off to get Heart2Heart approved as a new student-run organization, she had spent some time talking to Tracy at lunch and in the hallway between classes. She still didn't understand how people could be so cruel to others based on physical appearance, specifically their weight; Tracy was pretty, an amazing artist and musician, and was one of the sweetest people she had ever known. Tracy should have been so proud of herself for her many talents but the bullies had tried to quash that by attempting to kill her self-esteem. Now, Tracy and Seth – Josh had first met him in his Army JROTC class – are great friends and, over the last several weeks, with the exception of being overweight, Tracy's self-esteem had improved greatly. Alex was more than happy to try to help her friend overcome her weight-loss goals; she just wanted Tracy to be happy with all parts of herself.

"Thanks," Tracy said, giving into a smile. "But I'm way too slow."

"Slow and steady wins the race," Seth said, grinning at her as he ran a tanned hand through his black hair.

"Yeah," Josh added, "you'll get faster; it will just take some time." Stepping in front of his friends, he turned and started walking backwards. "And we'll be by your side the whole time."

"Thanks," Tracy said again. "I'm serious though. You guys go ahead and go run some more. I'm gonna keep walking for awhile."

"I'll keep you company," Seth told her. "You guys go ahead."

"You sure?" Josh asked, still walking backwards on the track.

"Yeah," Tracy and Seth both said. "Go for it." Alex grinned at Josh, pushed past him, and took off running, daring him with her eyes that he couldn't keep up.

* * *

Four laps, or two miles, later, Alex couldn't shake the weird feeling that she had developed about three-quarters of a mile ago; she felt like she was being watched. After catching up to her at the quarter mile mark earlier, Josh had matched her stride for stride, but then he had fallen back less than half a mile ago. When that had happened, their conversation had ended and she had become even more aware of the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. Aware that Josh was not that far behind her, she slowed down her pace only slightly and began scanning the area surrounding the track. The dozen or so people that were still around did not appear to be out of place. The students all belonged here, as did the school janitor and security officer. Yet… something felt wrong.

"You okay?" Josh asked, coming up on her right side. They had only run a total of three miles and she was slowing down. That was so unlike her.

"Huh?" She asked distractedly, before shaking her head in an attempt to get rid of the strange feeling.

Josh reached out and touched her hand, making her slow to a walking pace. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Alex said, ignoring his eyes so she wouldn't feel so bad about lying to him. The feeling had probably been nothing; she didn't need to make him start worrying about her again. "I think I'm going to take it easy today and just walk the last mile."

"Okay," he said, not entirely believing her. He wasn't going to push her for honesty, though. She had a lot on her mind with her mom being in town and everything; that was probably the reason for wherever her mind had just been. Glancing around the track, he asked, "Where the heck did Seth and Tracy go?"

Alex shrugged and looked around. Spotting them on the bleachers, she pointed and said, "Over there."

When he saw them, Josh began to laugh and, getting a questioning look from Alex, asked, "You think they've kissed yet?" It was no secret, at least not to them, that Seth and Tracy liked each other as more than just friends. The two of them spent more time together outside of school – just the two of them – than they did as a group with him and Alex. Plus, even when they were together as a group, Seth and Tracy had a tendency of flirting with each other. They actually reminded him a lot of his relationship with Alex.

Alex shrugged. "I don't know." She'd be happy for them if they did but it really wasn't one of her main areas of interest right now. They had just rounded the curve so they were now on the far side of the track and that stupid feeling was back, sending a chill up her spine. Trying not to alert Josh to her discomfort, she subtly scanned the trees on the other side of the visitor bleachers, hoping like hell she didn't spot someone watching her. Her dad was still concerned about Wo Fat and, not that she would even be able to identify him if she saw him, she just hoped that he wouldn't be stupid enough to kidnap her from her school. Not when her dad would be here any minute to pick her and Josh up. If he did take her, she had no doubts that her dad would kill him. He'd probably torture him and _then_ kill him.

"You know," Josh started, his eyes focused solely on her. His mind was on a topic that was a thousand miles away from the one that occupied her mind. "He's going to ask her to the Winter Formal."

At the mention of the dance, whose date and time had just been announced that morning, she jerked her head to look at him. "Really? That's not until January."

Josh smiled. "Yeah, well," he said, clearing his throat. "I guess when you like someone…" he trailed off, hoping the blush on his face wasn't as red at it felt.

If she had noticed, she didn't let on that she had. "Well, that's cool," Alex said as they continued to walk, "I mean, her Dad doesn't have a rule that she can't date until she's 16 or anything so I guess she would have no problem getting permission to go with him." Glancing back at their friends, who she could see were laughing, she added, "And since she doesn't have to live with that rule, she won't get in trouble for kissing him, either."

Josh stopped her with a touch of his hand on hers. Stepping in front of her, he said, "Just because you're not allowed to date until you're 16, doesn't mean you can't kiss before then." She kept her eyes locked on his but she didn't say anything. After a few long moments, he added, "That is, if there's someone you think you want to kiss."

Feeling the blush rise on her cheeks, she dropped her head and looked at the ground. "Yeah, well," she said, intentionally changing the topic back to the dance, "I doubt my dad would let me go to the dance, even if someone asked me to go." Stepping around him, she said, "Beat you to the other side." And, with that, she was off. A confused Josh didn't even bother running after her.

* * *

_Can u come get me today? – A_

Glancing across the room at the librarian, Alex set her cell phone in her lap, where it was out of sight. Confident that the librarian was thoroughly distracted with assisting other students, she pulled the tiny item out of her pocket, while she waited for Kono to reply to her text message. Not even ten minutes ago, while at her locker, Alex had dropped her Chemistry textbook on the floor and, upon bending down to pick it up, she had seen something sticking out of the binding of the book. Thanks to Tracy having a doctor's appointment, she and her friends did not have plans to run today; instead, Alex had headed to the school library to wait for someone to pick her up.

It looked like some sort of electronic device, but that just did not make any sense. Why would there be an electronic device inside of her textbook? And, if it wasn't an electronic device, it was still misplaced. The whole thing was weird and, she probably wouldn't be freaking out as much about it, if it weren't for the return of that strange feeling she had experienced the other day. She really felt like someone was watching her which was why, even though she could get in trouble for using her cell phone despite it being after school hours, she had requested that Kono be the one to pick her up. Someone from Five-0 needed to know about what she had found but her dad, Uncle Danny, and Chin would possibly over-react; Kono, despite kicking butt on a daily basis, would be more level-headed. At least until they confirmed that this was, in fact, some sort of electronic device.

Feeling the slight vibration of her cell phone, Alex glanced at the librarian again and, seeing her closer now but still distracted, she looked down at the phone and read Kono's reply:

_Leaving now. You ok? – K_

Alex typed a quick response in the affirmative before sliding her phone into her pocket along with the device. Standing up, she started packing up her textbooks and notebooks. Then, after a quick stop in the bathroom, she headed for the main entrance to the school. Once there, she waited inside so she would be out of the rain. Fifteen minutes later, Kono pulled up in her red Cruze; Alex met her at the curb.

Closing the door behind her, Alex said, "Thanks for picking me up."

"No problem," Kono replied. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I'm just a little freaked." Searching for the device in her pocket, she added, "My dad's gonna freak."

"What's wrong?" Kono's question was answered when Alex placed a small, electronic listening device in her hand. "Where did…" she trailed off, wondering if the device was still in working condition and if it was being used to listen to them right now. Kono held up a finger to her lips, reached over Alex's legs and opened the glove box, placed the device inside under the manual to her car, and then shut it. "Where did you get this?"

"It was inside the binding of my Chemistry book," Alex told her, staring at the closed glove box. "So it _is_ an electronic device?" Her eyes widened with understanding. "You think someone's listening to us?"

"I don't know," Kono admitted as she pulled out of the school parking lot. "But we're going back to Headquarters. We'll tell your Dad and Chin and Danny and then we'll find out." She gave Alex a smile. "It'll be okay; promise."

* * *

"Alex, Josh, this is Agent Campbell," Steve said, introducing the teens to the ICE Agent that had been working their latest case with them. Agent Campbell was their victim's supervisor. Monica had been found in the pilot's seat of the small plane that had crashed into the water just off of the North Shore. Max had determined that she had been dead _before_ the plane had crashed; she had been murdered. Delving into the ICE agent's past, they were lead to a man named Liam Miller, who had informed Chin and Kono about what she had been working on. After tracking down – in other words, participating in an extended foot chase – the ICE agent's informant, they were lead back to Miller after discovering that he also was a skilled pilot. He finally admitted that he had killed Monica because she would not stop poking around the animal poaching she had uncovered while working on her narcotics case. The case had been a difficult one emotionally for Jeff Campbell but he was a respectable man and agent and Steve wouldn't mind working with him again in the future. "Jeff, this is my daughter, Alexandra, and her friend, Josh."

Jeff shook their hands and then said to Steve, "If you were thinking of going into your office, I just, a little warning." Looking a little uncomfortable, he continued, "It's not a small dog, and uh, I'd watch my step."

Glancing at the dog that, at that moment, was walking towards them, he started to ask, "He went in…" He trailed off as he was distracted by the sight of the two teenagers approaching the dog. They both squatted down, and began to rub behind the dog's ears as they talked to him. Seeing the look that appeared on his daughter's face, he said, "Don't even think about it, Alex. Absolutely not; no dogs."

Alex's face took on a pout but quickly gave way into a laugh when the dog lay down and rolled over, a sure sign that he wanted his belly rubbed.

Steve turned his attention back to Jeff Campbell. "He went in my office?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah. Landmines all over the office."

"Danny…"

Suppressing the urge to laugh, Danny grabbed the leash off of the Smart Table and said, "I'm going to take him for a walk."

"I'll go with you!" Alex said excitedly. Then, remembering her dad's latest concern, she figured she had better probably ask for his permission. "I mean, can I, Dad?" Ever since Kono had showed him the device that she had discovered in her textbook, he had gone back to not letting her out of his sight – the sole exception being while she was at school. She wasn't sure what they had determined in regards to the device but she knew better than to ask. Over the last few months she had learned to respect her dad's choices about what he told her and what he didn't. She had her suspicions about what they had discovered, of course, but she would just let her dad do his job of protecting her. "Please? I'll be with Uncle Danny."

He didn't like the idea of her being out in public without him. That electronic listening device that she had found in her textbook had, in fact, been in working order, and had last been activated yesterday morning, 8 hours prior to Alex's discovery. So far, they had not been able to track the owner of the device; Chin and Kono had traced it to an electronics manufacturer in the Ukraine. That was the only information they had been able to locate so far. It had him worried, to say the least. Yet, he had complete faith that Danny would do everything he could to protect Alex, if circumstances warranted that. "Okay, but, please, stay with Danny. Do not wonder off. Got it?"

Alex jerked to attention and, saluting him, said, "Aye, Aye, Commander." She gave him a grin when he shook his head with full amusement.

* * *

Looking at the woman laying next to him, he still could hardly believe she was here. The night before, Steve and Alex had been getting ready to head home from the office when, approaching his truck, they were shocked to discover Catherine standing there, in civilian clothes, leaning against the truck, a huge smile on her face. Alex had squealed in excitement, ditching her dad's side to run towards Catherine, throwing her arms around her when she got there. His hug had been nowhere as enthusiastic; the way he had kissed her, however, was all that and more. As he had driven home, the three of them had chatted; Catherine had requested to take 5 days of leave early, not expecting to get it approved. Yet, here she was, back in Hawaii, with him. With them.

They had gone back to the house where they all cooked dinner together and then Cath had called it an early night; the time change had caught up to her. He had spent some time with his daughter down by the water, finally joining Cath in bed about two hours later. She had been fast asleep and, although he would have liked nothing more than to properly welcome her back to Honolulu, he had curled up next to her, pulling her back flush against his chest and draping his arm over her body, holding her tight against him. He had managed to sleep through the entire night – something he hadn't done in quite awhile – and, since he had awoken twenty minutes ago, all he could do was watch the perfect woman next to him as she slept.

God, she was beautiful. Not just her full, kissable lips or her silky brown hair or those brown eyes of hers that he could spend hours getting lost in; everything about her was beautiful. Some days he wondered how he could be so lucky. First, he had been blessed with an amazing kid. Then, Cath had chosen him. Over all of the other SEAL's, Seamen, and Marines who had been willing and able, she had picked him and, despite all of his flaws and, as his daughter would say, his "dumbness when it came to women", she had chosen to exclusively stay with him for almost seven years. God, how he loved this woman.

He watched as her chest rose softly with every breath; the way her hair fell down over her face. He gazed at that spot on her neck that he knew drove her crazy every time he placed his lips there. Hearing his daughter moving around downstairs chased away any thoughts of proving that particular theory. He looked down at their bodies and how perfectly their bodies fit with one another. Everything about her fit perfectly with him and, for the first time, he really felt that she belonged here, in this house, with him and Alex.

"You're staring at me," Catherine said, her voice rough from sleep, without moving even an inch in his arms.

He had been so lost in his thoughts that her observation startled him and he said the first thing that came to mind. "I love you."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So, thanks to the Valium, I accidentally deleted the original version of this chapter and was unable to recover it from my computer. So, this is an attempt to re-write what I had written originally. Hopefully, I captured enough of it to be pleasing to readers. Please excuse the first scene, especially if you were hoping for more between Steve and Cath after Steve's declaration of love. I'm not sure of the age range of this story's readers so I absolutely refuse to write anything more than some slightly suggestive material. **

**Warnings for some sexually suggestive material and many usages of cursing in the later scenes.  
**

**As always, thank you to the readers and reviewers. You all are the best! Thanks for bringing a smile to my face with your kind words. FicreaderT and NYR88: I think you will both enjoy a certain part of this.**

**I'm starting a new training class on Monday and, from what I hear, it's pretty intense and busy. If so, it might be awhile before the next chapter is posted. So until then I leave you this…**

* * *

"You…" Catherine said, trailing off as she rolled over to face him, surprise written all over her face. Did he really just say that he loved her?

Steve gave her a shy, boyish smile. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he let his thumb rest on her face. Caressing her cheek, he gave her a soft, quick kiss on the lips and said, "I love you. I've loved you for a long time and—"

"Steve," she said, trying to interrupt him so she could make her own declaration of love. But he ignored her or maybe he was just so wrapped up in his explanation that he didn't hear her.

"I should have told you a long time ago," he continued, as if she hadn't spoken at all. "I'm sorry. I should have told you before you left on the Enterprise. I was an idiot. I never should have –"

"Steve," she tried again.

"—let you go without telling you."

He kept right on talking until she finally just wrapped a leg over his hip and pressed her lips to his. Her fingers moved to rest in the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands were on her waist, pulling her tighter against him. When they finally pulled away from each other, they were both out of breath. When Steve looked at her, eyes lidded and lips slightly swollen, she smiled at him. "I love you, too, Steve."

Grinning, he rolled them over so he was on top of her, his body resting perfectly between her legs, and he began to assault her neck. He pressed the hardness of his clothed arousal against her, letting her know how much he both wanted and needed her. Not even fifteen seconds after he had removed his t-shirt, there was a knock on his bedroom door. "Dad?" Talk about a mood killer.

Giving into a soft groan, he pulled his lips from Catherine's collarbone, resting on his elbows and his head hanging over one of her shoulders. "Dammit," he whispered. Quietly clearing his throat, he asked, "What do you need, Alex?"

"I was thinking about making breakfast," she replied, completely oblivious to the fact that she just might be interrupting something happening inside her father's bedroom. "Do you and Catherine want omelets, waffles, French toast, or pancakes?"

She wasn't sure where she found the self-control because, usually when it came to him she tended to not have very much, but Catherine removed her legs from around his hips and gently pushed him off of her and whispered, "We can finish this tonight."

Rolling over onto his back, Steve looked down at the bulge in his shorts and softly groaned again. He hadn't gotten any since before his daughter had shown up in May and now… "Well, do you, Dad?"

Next to him, Catherine gave into a laugh and he glared at her when she climbed out of bed. Picking up his discarded t-shirt, she tossed it at him. Resolved to his fate, he suggested, "How about we go to Eggs'N'Things and then spend the day at the beach?"

"Really?" His daughter asked him through the door. "Can we take our surf boards?"

His eyes followed Catherine as she stretched. The t-shirt she was wearing – an old Annapolis shirt of his – rode up as she did, giving him a delightful look at her bare bottom, and he swallowed hard. Yeah, that definitely was not helping his arousal any. Distractedly, he answered his daughter, "Yeah, that's fine."

"Cool!" he heard his daughter excitedly say. "When are we leaving?"

Catherine was now pulling clothes out of her suitcase; a sure sign that there was no chance of him getting lucky. Knowing her body language well enough he knew he wouldn't even be given the chance of having a quickie in the shower. Knowing himself well enough, too, he realized that they needed to head to breakfast sooner rather than later. If he stayed in the house with Catherine for too much longer, he would have to lock his daughter out of the house just so he could have his way with the woman he loved. "Ten minutes."

"I'm a girl, Dad," Alex told him, her voice laughing at him. "Remember? It takes me longer than ten minutes to get ready."

"Fine," Steve said with a sigh, dropping his arm over his face as he laid his head back on the pillow. "Fifteen minutes."

"Thirty!" Alex and Catherine both said at the same time.

Outside in the hallway, Alex started to laugh. "Finally someone else in this house who understands. Thanks, Catherine."

When Steve heard his daughter's bedroom door close, he sent Catherine a look. "I can't win with you two, you know that?"

Laughing, Catherine sat on the bed next to him. Her hand on his six-pack abs, she leaned down to kiss him and then said, "Up and at 'em, Commander. While we get ready, you load the truck."

Steve shook his head, giving into a laugh. He was doomed now that there were two females in the house. The control that he thought he had over his own house was now lost. When Catherine moved to stand up, his hand held hers in place. Sitting up, he settled himself behind her, his thighs resting on the outside of hers. He wrapped his arms around her and he kissed the shell of her ear. "Thank you."

She turned her head to look at him. "For what?"

He placed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "For being you: beautiful and smart and for putting up with me for seven years." He kissed her again and then pulled back only enough so their noses were touching. "For making my daughter happy and for being there for her."

"You don't have to thank me, Steve," Catherine told him. "I love you _and_ I love your daughter."

Steve smiled. "I love you, too."

* * *

Pulling into the parking spot next to Steve's truck, a spot that faced the beach, Danny parked his car. Looking out towards the sand, he spotted Steve and Alex heading towards the water with their surfboards while Catherine sat watching them. Steve had called him earlier and told him that the three of them would be spending the day at the beach. Since Steve knew that he had Grace for the weekend, he had invited them to join in their fun at the North Shore. He had even promised that dinner would be on him, as well. In return, Danny had offered to take Alex for the night – he was staying at a hotel for the weekend because, even though he wouldn't admit it to Steve, his apartment was, in fact, far too disgusting for his daughter to witness – so that Steve and Catherine could have some much needed alone time.

Getting out of his car, he spotted a suspicious looking woman standing several yards away. She was partially concealed behind a group of trees and watching – spying – on someone down at the beach. "Hey, Monkey," Danny said, not wanting to alert her to the woman. "Why don't you run on down and join Uncle Steve and Alex? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, Danno," Grace said, taking off at a run down towards the water. Once he saw that Steve had acknowledged Grace's presence, Danny headed towards the woman. As he got closer, he recognized her: Cindy. Approaching her, he said, "You probably shouldn't be here."

"Daniel," Cindy greeted, her voice telling him she was clearly surprised. She looked back towards the beach. "She's my daughter; I have a right to see her."

"Not like this, you don't," Danny told her, trying to keep his tone friendly even though all he really wanted to do was tell this woman what he really thought about her. He nodded his head in the direction of Steve. "If he catches you here, you'll never get to see her again." Pushing his hands into his pockets, he added, "In fact, I think he's been rather gracious to allow you to see her at all. If my ex-wife had done what you did only a few months ago, if she had hurt our daughter like you did Alex, I would do everything in my power to keep her from seeing my daughter again."

Cindy didn't say anything in return. Instead, she just focused her intense attention on the beach. "Who is she?" She had been standing here for half an hour, watching as her daughter interacted with both Steve and the woman who was with them. They all seemed so happy and, when Alex's laughter had carried towards her in the breeze, it had caused an ache like no other. The woman, whoever she was, appeared to have a natural and easy-going relationship with the teenager. It had always seemed so unfair that every other adult on the planet had such an easy time getting along with the Alexandra, while she had struggled to build that relationship with her daughter from day one. She realized that she hadn't been a good mother – that she had hurt her daughter with the years of neglect and anger – but she was back now. She wanted her daughter back. That had to count for something.

"I don't think that's any of your business," Danny told her. Running a hand through his air, he said, "I'm going to head down there now. I hope that you're gone by the time I get there."

As he started to walk away, Cindy said, "If you don't like me as much as you say you do, then why do you even care if Steve sees me? I figured you'd want him to chase me away again."

Danny stopped walking and, looking back at her, he answered, "I _don't_ care if Steve finds out you're here. If it was just about him, I'd make sure he did know you were here." He turned and watched as Alex wiped out on a wave. "Alex, on the other hand… that's a different story." With everything else going on in her life, Alex did not need to witness a fight between her parents. She did not need to be put in the middle of another Steve-Cindy showdown. Danny refused to be the one to put her in that position. Even still, he knew that, no matter how much he or Steve or _anyone_ tried to prevent it, sooner rather than later, the girl would be put in that exact position. He would do the best he could to delay that for her.

* * *

"Hey, kiddo," Danny greeted, as he quietly closed the bedroom door behind him. He had splurged on this hotel suite for the weekend: one queen bed, a pull-out couch, and a small kitchenette that had a full refrigerator and two hot plates for cooking. The bedroom was separated by the living area by a door and, even though Danny had offered to sleep on the couch, Alex had insisted that she take it because she did not want to risk waking anyone when she rose first in the morning and, knowing from prior experience that she certainly was an early riser, he had let her take it. What he had not expected was for her to be awake at three in the morning. On his way back from the bathroom, he had spotted light shining under the closed door and had come out to investigate. "What are you doing up?"

"Hey, Uncle Danny," Alex said, glancing at him over the book that she was reading. "Can't sleep." She glanced at the red numbers on the digital clock next to the couch. "Oh, shit, did I wake you up?"

"Watch your mouth," Danny told her, rubbing his eyes as he sat in the chair across from her.

"Sorry," she said, "I didn't wake Grace up, too, did I?"

Danny shook his head. "I was already up. Grace is still asleep." He laid his head back against the chair and looked at her. "Why can't you sleep?"

"A lot of stuff on my mind, I guess," she told him, setting her book down on her stomach. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," he told her, lifting his feet and resting them on the coffee table. "You know that."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, thanks." She gave him a smile and then sat up. "Before I came to Hawaii did my Dad ever talk about me?"

Danny studied her face for several moments before responding to her question. "Of course he talked about you."

"A lot?"

He thought for a few moments, choosing his words carefully. "I don't know if I would say 'a lot'," he told her, being painfully honest with her. "But you have to remember that your dad had a lot to worry about. He wanted answers for your grandpa's death and certain people didn't like that. He probably didn't talk about you a lot because he was afraid of the wrong person finding out and using you to get to him." He could imagine the gears turning in her head as her eyes searched the room, as if whatever answer she was seeking would be revealed to her there. "But, hey," he continued, drawing her attention back to him. "Every time he talked to you on the phone his face would light up. Just like it does now whenever you're in the room. We could be in the middle of a very stressful, high intensity case but one phone call from you and your dad would relax. He would look a little less like Atlas, carrying the world around on his shoulders, and a little more like a human being." Giving into a grin, he added, "Well, you know, as much as a SEAL can look human."

Alex laughed. "Thanks, Uncle Danny."

"No prob—" He was interrupted by the sound of his cell phone ringing. Looking down at the caller ID, he groaned. Apparently Steve's night wasn't going as well as it was supposed to be. "Did you call so you can lull your daughter back to sleep with a lullaby?" Danny joked, opting for a different greeting than was usual.

"What?" Steve asked, his voice sounded tired, as if he had yet to go to sleep. Which, of course, he probably hadn't considering Steve hadn't had sex in well over six months. "Why is she awake? Forget it, I'll figure that out later. The governor called."

"And we have a case," Danny said, finishing Steve's sentence.

"Yeah," Steve said, sighing. "How about you bring both girls here? Cath said she'd take them out for a girl's day later. Then we can just ride over to the scene together."

* * *

"Alex!" Steve shouted, removing his arm from around Catherine's shoulders as he rose from the couch. His daughter, having spent the last five hours of her day off of school with Cindy, had apparently just been dropped off after her visit. She had raced into the house, slamming the front door behind her with one hand, hair hanging in her face, and then ran up the stairs. When she had reached the second floor landing, she had headed to the bathroom, slamming that door closed behind her as well.

Glancing at Danny and Catherine, he took one step towards the stairs before being stalled by the touch of Catherine's hand on his. "Let me," she requested, bringing herself to her feet. "Please." From conversations she had with the teenager just yesterday during their girl's day out, Catherine knew that, for the last two months, Alex had been suffering from severe PMS cramping and other symptoms. Yesterday had been no exception. Just in case that was the reason Alex had run upstairs, Steve certainly did not need to be the one to go upstairs and check on her; Alex had not mentioned anything to him about her female issues, as was to be expected.

Receiving a nod from Steve, she headed upstairs, stopping in front of the bathroom door. She could hear the water running and then it was turned off. Knocking, she said, "Alex, honey, are you okay?"

"Go away." Alex's voice sounded strangely muffled.

Hearing a hiss of pain from inside the bathroom, Catherine said, "I'm worried about you." She glanced downstairs and saw the two nosy men looking up at her. "Let me in and I can help you with whatever is wr—"

"Are you alone?"

"Yes, I am." Catherine heard the squeaky door of the linen closet; opening or closing, she couldn't be sure. Then she heard the sound of the door being unlocked. The door still closed, she put her hand on the doorknob and pushed the door open. When she stepped inside the bathroom, Alex had her back towards her with one of her arms bent as if she were holding something to her face. Her hair was hanging towards the front. "Alex," she said again as she closed the door behind her.

"I'm okay," Alex said, "I just can't get it to stop bleeding." With that said, she turned around to face Catherine, making sure her hair covered her right cheek. Dropping her arm, which was holding a wet washcloth, she revealed a nasty, bloody cut on her lip. It actually reminded Catherine of the type of injury that many drunken sailors had returned to the ship with after a night of bar brawls in whatever port city they were anchored in.

"Oh, honey," Catherine said, stepping forward to better inspect the teenager's lip. "What happened?" she asked as she directed Alex to sit on top of the closed toilet lid. She then took the washcloth from Alex, wringing out the blood from it before turning on the cold water in the sink.

"I fell," Alex replied. She felt really bad lying to Catherine, especially after yesterday. Before yesterday's girl's day out, she felt that she had a pretty good relationship with Catherine. Everything they had done yesterday – shopping, getting a manicure and pedicure, talking about boys, and Catherine French braiding her and Grace's hair – had brought all three of them, but especially her and Catherine, much closer. Catherine was a really great role-model and she really respected her not just as her dad's girlfriend or an established Naval Officer, but as a woman who was intelligent, kind, helpful, beautiful, skilled in a lot of different tasks, understanding, ethical, and a good listener. Plus, Catherine had also genuinely listened to everything she had told her. Additionally, Catherine had actually expressed interest in the things she liked to do. That had made Alex feel appreciated, respected, and cared about.

Turning off the faucet, Catherine wrung out the washcloth and then lifted it to Alex's lip, apologizing when the girl hissed out in pain again. Brushing the girl's hair away from her cheek, she was shocked to find a fresh bruise there. "This is _not_ caused by a fall," Catherine said, locking eyes with the teenager. "What really happened to you?"

Tears brimming in her eyes, Alex said, "Please don't tell my Dad." It wasn't that she didn't want to tell him; she just _couldn't_ tell him because of what would happen when she did.

Catherine shook her head. "I have to, sweetheart. This is not something we can keep from him." Catherine took the few steps over to the door, opening it and shouting for Steve. "Steve, we need you up here." When she turned back around to continue tending to Alex, she saw that the girl had turned around so she was facing the shower and bathtub. Her hair was once again hanging in front of her face.

Stopping in the doorway, he took in the scene and looked at Catherine. "It's not good," she whispered to him, hoping to prepare him for what he was about to see on his daughter's face, although she knew that no words would soothe the pain and anger that were about to come his way. He dropped a kiss of gratitude to her temple before approaching his daughter.

Squatting in front of the toilet, he asked, "What's wrong?" When she didn't reply, he cupped her chin in his hand and directed her head towards him; she turned her body to match the movement. Seeing that she was holding a washcloth to her lip, he gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist and moved her hand out of the way. He couldn't help the sharp intake of breath that he released when he saw the big, gaping cut on the right side of her bottom lip. It was bleeding more than a cut to the lip normally did and that worried him. He took the washcloth from her and pressed it back to her lip, apologizing when she hissed in pain. Brushing her hair back from her face, he caught sight of the bruise and then he placed a gentle hand on her arm. "It's okay, Sweetheart. You can tell me what happened," he told her, giving her arm a light squeeze of reassurance. When she visibly winced at his touch, he lifted the sleeve of her t-shirt. Doing so revealed a dark bruise in the shape of a handprint and Steve glanced at Catherine. She shook her head; she had not discovered the bruise on his daughter's arm. "Did your Mom do this to you?"

"Mom would never hit me," Alex told him, her voice void of any emotion.

Steve focused his attention back to the bruise on her arm. The shape of it, the placement of the bruises that had come from fingertips grasping her arm with too much force, had come from a left-handed person. Cindy was not left-handed. But… "Did David do this to you?"

"I told you he was an asshole."

He didn't even bother to reprimand her for her language. She was right; David was an asshole. The stupid son-of-a-bitch had hurt her. No one hurt his kid and got away with it. David was not going to be an exception to the rule. Standing up, he pushed past Catherine and sped down the stairs, only stopping to grab his wallet and keys off the end table.

His hand on the door of his truck, he was halted by the sound of Danny and Catherine, both calling his name.

"What the hell is going on, Steve?" Danny asked him.

"I need to get her to the hospital," Catherine said.

He responded to her statement, tossing her his truck keys and requesting Danny's from him.

"Uncle Danny." All three adults turned around to face the teenager that they hadn't even realized had joined them outside. To say Danny was surprised by the status of Alex's face was an understatement. She looked almost like her father did on that very first case they had worked together. Steve's face, very much like his daughter's now, had been covered in bruises and blood. The only difference being that, where the blood around Steve's face had dried quickly, Alex's was still bleeding. He'd seen enough blood in his day to know that Alex's blood appeared much too thin and it was all he could do to force himself to look her in the eyes instead of focusing on the slow drip…drip…drip of her blood as it made its way down her chin and dropped to the ground below. "Please go with my Dad." She knew exactly where her dad was headed and she feared that, if Uncle Danny did not go with him, the next time she saw her dad he might be wearing an orange jumpsuit.

* * *

"What the hell is going on?" Danny asked, struggling to buckle his seat belt, thanks to Steve driving like a maniac through his neighborhood, the siren and lights being used illegally.

"David…that son-of-a-bitch fucking hit my daughter," Steve grunted out. "No one hits my kid, Danny. I'm going to kill the mother fucker."

Steve's comment made Danny's blood start to boil. Alex was like a second daughter to him; anyone hitting Steve's daughter was like that same person hitting Grace. Feeling the rage rising inside of him, Danny pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. They were going to need help from someone who was not so invested in Alex's life; otherwise, by the end of the hour, he and Steve might find both of their asses behind bars. "Duke, it's Danny."

* * *

"It wasn't the first time."

Catherine's head jerked at Alex's comment. It was so quiet that, at first, Catherine thought she had imagined it. "What?" she asked, looking at the teenager who was sitting upright in the hospital bed, holding some gauze-covered ice chips to her swollen lip. "Your step-dad has hurt you before?"

"He's never drawn blood before." The truth was that David had hit her on three other occasions, leaving bruises on either her cheek or arms. It had been the secret that she had kept buried deep inside of her heart for almost two years. She had planned on telling her dad as soon as she had found out she would be spending the summer with him. But then everything had happened – the kidnapping; the two of them fighting with each other; her dad being awarded permanent custody; her Mom relinquishing her maternal rights – and, by the end of all of that, Alex didn't think she needed to tell her Dad. David had had no chance of ever hurting her again. Raising her head to look at Catherine, she admitted, "You're the first person I've ever told."

* * *

His anger serving as his fuel, Steve raced down the stairs. If he had taken a moment to think about it, he would've wondered why Danny had not yet complained about his troublesome knee as he closely followed him downward. He and Danny had made it to the hotel less than five minutes ago – traffic had been horrendous, even with the sirens on – and, after finally getting Cindy to answer the door, she had, without questioning his motives, informed them that her husband was in a conference room downstairs with work colleagues.

Pushing the stairwell door open, Steve stepped into the lobby, not bothering to slow down his pace. Ignoring the looks of the people gathered there, he ran in the direction of the conference rooms. Spotting the overhead placard that represented Conference Room 4, Steve headed to the end of the hallway, roughly pulling open the door when he made it there. He spotted David standing in the front of the room near a projector screen, a PowerPoint presentation on the screen, and holding a laser pointer in one hand. Racing along the table, ignoring the questions and looks from the dozen or so men sitting around the table, Steve reached David, his fist connecting instantaneously with David's jaw. At the contact, David dropped the laser pointer as he fell to the ground, holding a hand to his mouth. Standing up, he swiped a thumb at the blood coming from the corner of his mouth. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Steven?" Spotting the badge Danny wore on his belt, he said, "Officer, I want this man arrested for assault and battery."

Steve pushed David back against the wall, his elbow pressing forcefully into David's throat. "You fucking laid a hand on my daughter," he said, noticing the extra large ring on David's hand. The ring was tinged red; Alex's blood. He brought his knee up to connect with David's body, just south of his abdomen. "Assault and battery, you asshole? I will fucking show you assault and battery!"

"Steve," Danny said, his arms crossed in front of his chest as his gaze centered on David. "Duke's almost here."

Whether that was a warning to stop or to hurry up and get this over with, Steve didn't know. Frankly, he didn't care. He brought his fist back and posed to punch him again. David's gaze flitted over Steve's shoulder and, focusing on the HPD officer that had just entered the room, he said, with a struggled breath, "Officer Lukela, I want to press charges against this man." Smirking at Steve, he added, "Police brutality."

Steve pushed him harder against the wall, working his elbow deeper into the man's throat so that he would really feel it this time. "I'm not here as a member of law enforcement, you asshole. I'm here as the father of the girl that you abused." Bearing down on the shorter man, Steve wanted nothing more than to beat the living shit out of the guy. Thinking about the daughter that he needed to get to the hospital to see, he knew he needed to be the kind of man that his daughter would still respect at the end of the day. So he let David go; the law could deal with him now. "Duke, please cuff him. I'm pressing charges." Steve expelled a loud breath in an attempt to get his emotions in check and then started walking away.

As Sgt. Duke Lukela started to read him his Miranda rights, David said, "That girl of yours had it coming. If Cindy had been a decent mother, she would have started slapping her around a long time ago." Before Steve even had the time to react, Danny's fist was flying forward, connecting with David's nose. The crack of the bones breaking brought immense satisfaction to all of the men in the room. David might be an excellent businessman but he was a poor excuse of a human being.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so did I completely screw up the character of Sgt. Duke Lukela? Would he have stood by while Steve held David against the wall, choking him? Would he have allowed Danny to punch David without any repercussions? For that matter, did I screw up by having Danny break David's nose?**

**As always, please read and review.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for your reviews. Sorry for the delay in posting. This new training course I am involved in is insanely busy. It might be awhile before the next chapter is posted. Hope you bear with me while updating slows down.**

* * *

"Steve! Danny!" Catherine shouted their names when they turned the corner of the Emergency Department and headed down the hallway in the wrong direction. Hearing her, they turned around and headed towards her. Meeting her halfway, Steve looked over her head, searching for his daughter. His eyes must have asked the question for him because Catherine said, "She's with CWS. They're –"

"CWS?" Gently nudging Catherine out of the way, he moved past her, absently using his left hand to massage the pain in the knuckles of his right hand. "Why the hell is Child Welfare –"

Catherine reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop in the middle of the hallway. "You can't go in there, Steve," she told him as she stepped in front of him. "I'm sorry but you have to let them do their jobs."

"No," he told her, shaking his head. "Dammit, Cath," he said, roughly shaking her hand off of his arm. "They have no business…" he trailed off when he spotted Officer Chris Scanlon, his old high school friend and the officer who had handled Alex's kidnapping case, stepping out of a room down the hall accompanied by a representative from Child Welfare Services. "What the hell, Chris?" Steve asked, approaching him and the woman, not caring if he came across like a grade-A asshole or not. "How the hell can you people think I hurt my daughter?"

"No one thinks you hurt her, Steve," Chris replied.

"Then what the hell?"

"She came in with bruises, Steve," Catherine reminded him, stepping to his side and tentatively grabbing his hand. Looking down at her, he realized that he owed her an apology for his behavior from only moments before.

"She came in pretty beaten up," Chris said, understanding why Steve was angry. "It is standard procedure to report any suspected cases of abuse to CWS. When I picked up the case, I knew you weren't the person who hurt her." Gesturing towards the graying woman next to him, he continued, "Ms. Panui here was just doing her job, trying to figure out who was responsible. In order to do that, it is preferred that the child is spoken to alone, without the presence of a parent or guardian. Lieutenant Rollins gave us permission to speak to Alex alone."

"You're right," Steve said with a sigh. Turning to the woman, he stuck out his hand to shake hers. "I apologize for my outburst, Ma'am. And thank you." Turning to Chris, he said, "I'm not sure what Alex told you, if anything, but Duke's already arrested the person responsible for my daughter's injuries. He's probably booking him now."

"Okay, great," Chris said, excusing himself before pulling out his cell phone and stepping away.

"She was very forthcoming," the social worker said, pulling Steve's attention away from the window that looked into the exam room where his daughter was standing near a window, looking outside. "Very respectful; very honest. A lot of kids are reserved when it comes to talking about abuse, especially when it has happened multiple times, but your daughter did the right thing by telling me everything." Patting him on one of his crossed arms, she said, "She's a good kid and I can tell that you're a good father. I'll see that the judge gets my report right away and then you all can work on putting this all behind you."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Steve replied, giving her a gracious smile. When the social worker moved past them to leave, Steve turned to Catherine and pulled her in for a hug. "I'm sorry." Resting his cheek against her head, he continued, "For back there. I shouldn't have –"

Catherine pulled away from him. "It's okay." She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss. "But thank you." With a nod towards the exam room, she said, "Now go see your daughter."

"You okay, Danny?" Steve asked, looking over at his friend. "Wanna get an x-ray?"

"No, I'm good," Danny said, flexing his bruised fist. "But thank you for the concern." He didn't need an x-ray but he sure could use a painkiller. That punch had hurt like hell, yet the satisfaction he got from punching that smug bastard had made it all worth it. He glanced into the exam room at Alex. Looking back at Steve, he asked, "Mind if I go check on your kid, too?"

"Of course not," Steve answered, resting his hand possessively on Catherine's lower back. "Especially not after that punch." Grinning, he added, "You know, if you had punched me like that on that day we first met, I might have thought twice about making you a part of Five-0."

"Yeah, well," Danny said, giving into a smile. "You're just lucky, McGarrett, that I like you a little bit more than that asshole."

* * *

"Dad!" Alex said, turning around when she heard the door open and running towards him. Reaching him, she threw her arms around him. She had been so afraid that the next time Officer Scanlon walked into her room it would be to tell her that her Dad was in jail for killing David.

Concerned about both the way she clung to him and the status of her lip, he forced himself to back away from her. Bending down, he looked her in the eye. "How you holding up?"

Alex shrugged. "Lip finally stopped bleeding but the doctor still has to stitch it."

"I see that," Steve said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was such a relief to look at her and not see blood dripping down her chin. He wondered if the medical staff had been as concerned about the thickness, or lack thereof, of her blood as he, Danny, and Catherine had been. "I'm glad the bleeding stopped."

"The Child Welfare people were here."

"Yeah," Steve said, wrapping his arm around the back of her head and pulling her towards him. Dropping a kiss to her head, he continued, "I know. Let's go sit down and wait for the doctor to show up. We can talk about that later, okay?" Her experience with the social worker was something he definitely needed to talk to her about but this was not the place. Not when a doctor could walk in at any minute and interrupt them. He let her go and, instead of heading back to the exam table, she moved past him to hug Danny. Stepping back from the hug, she placed something in Danny's hand.

Looking at the cold item, Danny saw gauze wrapped around what must be ice. Looking at the teenager, she just shrugged her shoulders. "You were flexing your fist." Turning his hand over, she looked at it. "Looks like it hurts; figured I'd share my ice." What it actually looked like was that he had punched someone. Her dad's fist looked the same way. She figured they must have both punched David, but she wasn't going to ask for confirmation of that. She hated violence, especially police brutality, and was a pacifist by nature but she had learned over the last six months that her dad thought differently about it. For him, sometimes violence was necessary. Like when a good dad found out his daughter had been hurt by someone; his natural instinct was to hurt the person who had hurt his child. Her dad would kill for her if he had to; she just hoped that it never came to that.

"Thanks, kiddo," Danny told her, putting the ice on his bruised and swollen knuckles. In an attempt to liven up the mood a little, he looked at Steve and said, "See, this is why I like your kid better than I like you."

"You love me, Danno, you know you do," Steve said, a smirk appearing on his face.

"Yeah, but he loves me more," Alex said, shooting her dad a teasing smile as she sat next to him on the edge of the exam table.

Steve feigned a pout, causing both Alex and Danny to start laughing. Catherine finally took pity on him and said, "Aww, its okay, Steve, because I love you."

Catherine's declaration caused Danny and Alex to stop in mid-laugh. Mouths agape, they both turned and looked at her. Seeing their stunned looks, Steve laughed. Then, reaching out and grabbing her hand, he pulled her to him so that she was standing between his legs. Placing a chaste kiss to her lips, he said, "I love you, too." Glancing at his daughter and Danny, he laughed again. "Got a problem, Daniel?"

"You… you… finally said it," Danny said. He was answered by two smiles – one from Steve and one from Catherine.

"Who said it first?" That question came from Alex.

"Your dad did," Catherine answered her.

"Yes!" Alex said, breaking into a huge grin. "Way to go, Dad!" she said, slapping him on the back. "Took you long enough." Turning towards Danny, Alex held out her hand. "That will be twenty bucks."

Grumbling to himself, Danny took out his wallet. "I can't believe you're betting my daughter for money, Daniel."

Pulling a twenty out of his wallet, Danny glared at Steve. "Don't Daniel me, Steven. It was your daughter's idea, not mine."

Steve turned his "look" on his daughter. Before he had a chance to talk to her – he did not approve of her betting for money – the door to the exam room opened and in walked Dr. Davenport. "Alexandra McGarrett," Dr. Davenport greeted, carrying her chart under one arm. "We really should stop meeting like this."

"Dr. Davenport!" Alex greeted excitedly in return. He had been such a good doctor when he had treated her after her kidnapping and when she had ended up with the concussion at school.

"Mr. McGarrett, sorry for the wait," Dr. Davenport greeted, shaking Steve's hand. "Mr. Williams," he said, doing the same with Danny's hand. Turning towards Catherine, he extended his hand. "I'm Ted Davenport. I've treated Alexandra several times before."

"Catherine Rollins," Catherine introduced herself, shaking the man's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Alright," Dr. Davenport said, turning his attention back to the teenager. Setting her chart on the table next to her, he visually inspected her lip. "Your chart says this was caused by a ring."

"Yes, Sir," Alex replied, glancing at Catherine. Before the social worker had showed up earlier, she had told Catherine everything – what had happened today and what David had done to her in the past. Her Dad and Uncle Danny, though, did not know any of the details. "My step-dad is an a – he's a jerk – and he wears one of those big rings. You know, kinda like the ones football players wear after winning the Super Bowl."

Dr. Davenport nodded. "Officer Scanlon said that he's been arrested so that's the good news." He went over to the sink and washed his hands. "Bad news is that you're going to need stitches. Probably two. And, we got the results of your blood work back; you are slightly anemic." Drying his hands he continued, "I'm going to prescribe you an iron supplement and I want you to come back for a blood test in 30 days. Okay?"

* * *

"I guess I'll just see you guys tomorrow," Danny said, reclaiming his car keys from Steve as they stood in the hospital parking garage.

"I thought we were going to dinner?" Alex asked, referring to the plans they had made the other day at the beach. Danny was supposed to pick up Grace from her mom's house and the five of them were supposed to go out for dinner and dessert.

"Not anymore," Steve replied, his eyes scanning his daughter's face for any sign of pain from her busted lip. "Not with your lip looking like that."

"But, Dad," Alex protested, "you go out in public all the time when you're hurt. I don't care if people see me like this."

"That's not the point, Alex," Steve told her, sensing the impending argument.

"What is the point then, Dad?"

At that question, Danny chose to interrupt the soon-to-be argument between father and daughter. "Grace will want to know what happened to you, Alex." His ten-year-old daughter did not need to know that Alex's stepfather had abused her.

"So?" Alex said, her tone telling all three adults that she was determined to win this particular argument. "Make something up. Tell her I tripped and hit my mouth on my desk or something."

"You want him to lie to her?" Steve asked his daughter. With the exception of those few trying weeks over the summer, she was normally very much opposed to lying. Especially after she had learned that her mother had lied to her about several things. She valued honesty in all of her relationships and she valued honesty in other relationships as well. She always became angry when someone lied to her or when a friend was hurt by a lie. So for her to even suggest that Danny lie to Grace was a shock in and of itself.

Alex shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time a parent told their kid a lie." Anger at everything that had happened that day – everything that had happened since her mom came to town – finally hit her. "In my experience, parents lie all the time to their kids."

"Okay, right now," Steve said, interpreting his daughter's tone for what it was. "You and I are going to talk about this."

* * *

"Answer my question," Steve demanded, looking at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

"No," Alex said, her look defiant. "I already told you I don't want to talk about it."

"I don't care, Alex," Steve told her, his voice louder than before. He needed to know what the hell had happened that day. He needed to know if David had ever struck her in the past. But, of course, his daughter refused to talk to him. "I don't care what you want. We are going to talk about this whether you –"

"Steve," Catherine said, resting her hand on his thigh. She had been listening to the two of them, both as stubborn as could be, argue for nearly five minutes and, with it clearly going nowhere, it was important that she step in so that cooler heads could prevail. "Give her some time. Be patient." Turning around to face the teenager, she said, "And we talked about this, Alex. You have to talk to your dad. You have to tell him everything."

"Why can't you just tell him?"

"You know why," Catherine told her. "This is your story and he needs to hear it from you."

Alex sighed loudly and rested her head back against the seat. They sat silently in a traffic jam for nearly fifteen minutes until Alex finally asked, "How many times did you punch him?"

"Alex…" Steve breathed out uncomfortably.

"You wanted to talk," Alex said calmly and quietly, her eyes focused out the window. "Answer my question and I'll answer yours."

Steve sighed. He did not appreciate her trying to bargain with him. He longed for the day when she would just answer his questions forthright instead of searching for information that he normally would not share with her. To hell with it; this time he would play her little game. "Once."

"And Uncle Danny?"

Steve sighed again but answered her. "Once."

Alex nodded. "Okay." She placed a finger against the skin on her cheek and gently traced its pattern. "Serves the asshole right," she mumbled under her breath.

"Language!" Catherine and Steve both said at the same time. Alex rolled her eyes before giving into a smirk.

Honking the car horn just for good measure – everyone else was honking their car horns despite being in bumper-to-bumper traffic – Steve turned and faced his daughter. "So…"

Alex expelled a breath and then diverted her eyes away from his and looked out the window. "He's hurt me three other times before."

Steve's entire body started to visibly tense up at her admission. "He's – three times? He's hurt you three, now four, times?" Why the hell was she refusing to look at him? "Your mom, she –"

"Mom did not know," Alex stated, looking at him again. "No one knew. And don't you dare blame her for something that wasn't her fault."

"Alex," Steve started, expelling an angry breath. Not only did David hurt her on multiple occasions but now she was also pissed at him for merely asking if her mom had known. "I was just –"

"No," Alex said, anger flashing in her eyes. "You always assume that Mom is to blame but it wasn't her fault." Diverting her eyes to look out of the window again, she added, "Every time he hit me it was my fault. Just like today."

"_Why can't you just love me for who I am?" _

"_You're my daughter, Alexandra," her mother replied, staring at her across the open space of the over-sized hotel suite living room. This was supposed to be a good day – Steve had finally allowed her to see their daughter without his supervision – but, instead, it had been full of Alex asking innumerable questions on a variety of topics, most of which centered around her childhood and things that had happened over the last couple of years. _

"_That doesn't answer my question, Mom." Alex took on that characteristic McGarrett stance, feet spread apart, arms folded in front of her, laser-focused eyes straight ahead. "Nothing I do is ever good enough for you."  
_

"_Of course it is, Sweetheart."_

_Alex shook her head. "No it's not. You don't support any of my interests. You don't –"_

"_I showed up at your race, didn't I?"_

_True, she did. But that didn't make up for all of the years when she hadn't shown up to her piano and ballet recitals or to school plays. Showing up to one cross-country meet did not make up for when her mom didn't allow her to do anything of the things she enjoyed doing. "Do you remember when my ballet class performed Cinderella?" _

"_Of course I do, Alexandra," Cindy replied, confused by the sudden change of topic. "You were very beautiful as Cinderella."_

_That just proved Alex's point. She never had been in Cinderella. Her mom should have known that. However, her mom did not know that because she had never actually made it to any of her recitals. When she was younger, her mom would meet her in the changing area backstage after each of her performances, and she would always tell her the show was enjoyable. Yet, it wasn't until the last couple of months that Alex began to suspect that her mom had been late to every single show, only making it there after the final round of applause. "Why do you feel the need to lie all the time?"_

"After that, Mom said she wasn't feeling well and told David to give a ride home."

"Alex –"

"I shouldn't have been mean to her," Alex interrupted Steve, her eyes vacantly staring out her window into the distance. "If I wasn't mean to her, he wouldn't have hurt me."

"No, Alex," Steve argued, hot anger coursing through his bloodstream. This was not his daughter's fault. Her being grounded for arguing and yelling at her mother was one thing; inflicting physical harm on her was absolutely uncalled for and he would never forgive the man that had hurt her. "This is not your fault. No one deserves to be hurt like –"

"Never said I deserved it, Dad," she interrupted again. "Just said it was my fault."

* * *

It had been four days since Catherine had left the island to return to duty on the Enterprise and Steve missed her like crazy. It truly had been a delight to have her back in his arms after so many months apart. What had made it even better was how well Catherine got along with Alex and the keen insight Catherine held about his relationship with his daughter. Catherine had brought him and Alex closer just by reminding him to be calm and reminding Alex that it was important that she talk to him. Catherine was good for him; good for both of them.

She had left the same day that Alex had returned to school – the day after David's physical attack on her. David had posted the bail money but was stuck on the island until the hearing was completed; Steve refused to let the man get away with his crime. He and Danny had not been held accountable for their actions at the hotel that day David had been arrested; any good father would have reacted the same way to their child being hurt. Alex had been quiet ever since Catherine had left and she had told him on numerous occasions that she was just working on figuring things out for herself. He had promised Catherine to give his daughter some space – she would talk to him when she was ready to – and, so far, he had managed to do just that, despite that constant sense of worry that filled him to his very core.

Here it now was, a Saturday morning, and he found himself driving, yet again, to the cemetery where his father was buried. He had woken up late that morning after a case had brought him home at three in the morning and found a note on his nightstand. A note from his daughter stating that she knew she would be in trouble for leaving the house without his permission but that she was headed to the cemetery to hopefully figure things out.

When he reached the cemetery he headed for that all-too familiar spot and joined his daughter on the grass. Looking at the item in her hand, he noticed a familiar looking envelope, the one with the word "Princess" written the outside. It was the letter his father had left for her in the shoebox.

"Sorry I left without getting your permission," Alex said, glancing up at him. "I just…" she shrugged, "Grandpa helps me figure things out. I know that's weird."

Steve shook his head. "No, it's not weird." Brushing her hair out of her face, he added, "Thanks for leaving me a note." Alex answered him with a mere shake of her head.

"She gave me an ultimatum," Alex finally said after several slow minutes of silence.

"What?" Steve asked, confused by her statement. "Your Mom?"

Alex nodded. "Yesterday. She said she'd be back in my life – that she wanted to be in my life again and that things would be better between us – but only if…" She trailed off, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.

"If what?"

Alex looked up at him; sadness, pain, and confusion in her eyes. "If I would make sure you wouldn't be in my life anymore. She wants me to move back in with her and forget all about you. She said that she can offer me a better life – you know, an Ivy League education; a trust fund; the opportunity to travel for my entire summer break from school; a guaranteed job after college – than you can." She shrugged. "She said she would guarantee that David won't be around me ever again."

Steve swallowed hard. Leave it to Cindy to express her love and devotion conditionally. Alex didn't deserve Cindy in her life. Yet… "And what are you thinking your decision will be?" He studied her face, unsure that he was prepared to hear her answer.

Alex responded by grabbing his left wrist and pulling it towards her. She looked at his watch and said, "I was supposed to meet Mom three minutes ago." She dropped his arm and looked up at him. "I chose you."

Steve couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her answer. His daughter had finally seen the truth about who her mother was; Cindy had lost at her own game. Yet, his heart hurt for his daughter's obvious pain. "I am so sorry, Sweetheart. You should never have had to choose between us."

Alex shrugged. "It's okay." Seeing the look of disbelief on his face, she continued, "No, really it is. At least I know now. It was never about wanting to be in my life – it was never about me – all she wanted to do was hurt you."

"I'm still sorry, Alex," Steve told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and placing a comforting kiss to the top of her head. "You –"

"I never opened this until today," Alex interrupted him, picking up the opened envelope. "I was waiting for the right time and, well, when I woke up this morning, something told me I needed to read it." A smile appeared on her face. "Grandpa always knew how to help me figure things out. He always knew how to make me see what the right choice was." Sure enough, her grandfather's written words had made it clear as day as to what she had to do. It hurt to have to choose her dad over her mom, to say goodbye to her mom forever, but that choice had to be made for all of the reasons her grandfather had pointed out in his letter.

_Dear Princess,_

_If you are reading this, it means I'm gone. I'm sorry. I hoped you would never have to read a letter like this until you were much older but at thirteen or fourteen years old… I am so terribly sorry. I have written one of these letters every single year since your birth just so you would know how much I loved you. Just in case. _

_It is always hard to say goodbye to you after every visit. I just said goodbye to you at the airport and it was no exception. You have grown into a very beautiful, smart, responsible and compassionate young lady and being your grandfather has been one of the greatest joys in my life. Having the opportunity to watch you grow up has been one of the biggest blessings I could ever have asked for…_

_A long time ago I made the decision to send my kids away. It was both the hardest and easiest decision in the world to make. Easy because I had to protect them but hard because, in doing so, I lost my family. I never stopped loving your dad and Mary; I hope they both know that. I had lost my family, Princess, and, with them, I had lost the pure joy that had come with watching my children grow up._

_Then you were born and, not only did it make me experience love in a new way, but it also brought your dad back to me. Our relationship wasn't perfect by any means. Quite the opposite actually. But seeing my boy become a father made everything worth it. You, your dad, and Mary are what make my life worth living. I have left this world a happy man because of you three._

_I won't say anything bad about your mother because, no matter what, she is one of the two people who made me a grandfather. I won't say anything bad about her but I know that you're not happy, not like you used to be, living with her. You never said anything to me but I can tell. I hope that one day you will be happy again. And when you do find whatever it is that makes you happy, fight like hell to hold onto it. And remember: no matter how painful it might be, you always have to do the right thing. _

_I love you, Princess. I may be gone now but my love will always remain. My love for you – for your dad and Mary – will never die. _

_I love you, Princess, and thank you for bringing joy back into my life again._

_Love Always,_

_Grandpa_


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I know that it has been awhile since I've posted and I truly apologize for keeping you waiting. This training course I am enrolled in is insanely busy and occupies the majority of my "free" time in addition to class and everything else. I do thank all of you for patiently waiting for the continuation of this story. It might be another month or so until the next chapter is posted. (I have three weeks of training left, then a week of leave before moving to a new state). **

**This chapter probably could use another couple days of editing and I probably could have done a better job at capturing the emotions but I decided to post anyways. Hope you like it regardless. It's painful and sad, but at the same time hopeful.  
**

* * *

"Is he dead?"

The lump in his throat grew even bigger at the teenager's question and his heart ached at the almost stoic way in which she asked it. Swallowing hard, Danny shook his head. "No, we're pretty sure he's alive but…" he trailed off and gave into another shake of his head. Steve's daughter had been through enough in the last six months, especially the last couple of weeks, and, now, here he was at her school, in the middle of the school day, to tell her that her father had gone off of the grid somewhere in North Korea.

"You promised you would always be honest with me," Alex said to him, staring at him across the two foot span of space in the school hallway that separated them. "Please, Uncle Danny," she pleaded, "how bad is it?"

"Let's go outside and talk, okay?" Danny suggested, glancing through the glass window that separated them from the main office of the school. Despite her being taller than him, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her down the hallway and out the front doors of the school. Settling in place next to her on the steps, he reclaimed his arm. "We don't know if it's bad or not. We just –"

"He still hasn't contacted you?" It had only been two days ago when her dad had showed up at her school in the middle of the day – much like Uncle Danny had now – to tell her that he would be leaving for an overseas trip to help out his old employee Jenna Kaye. It had sounded fishy to her. After all those months of being back in D.C. and not staying in touch with anyone from Five-0, Jenna had shown up, out of the blue, to ask her dad for his help. With what exactly, her dad had never told her. He had apologized for having to leave suddenly but had assured her that he would be back in a couple of days. Since then it had just been her and Uncle Danny at the house – he had been living on their couch for nearly two weeks by then – and neither of them had yet to hear from her dad.

Danny shook his head. "No." Giving the teenager a forced smile, he added, "I'm sure he's fine but we just want to go and check on him. See if he and Jenna need any help." He didn't like having to lie to her but he knew it was in her best interest. She did not need to know that Jenna Kaye had lied about her whereabouts these last few months and had, in fact, been on the island the entire time. Jenna Kaye was up to no good and Steve needed their team's help to make it out of North Korea, and back to his daughter, alive.

"Where is he?" That had been something else that her dad had refused to tell her.

"I can't tell you that, Alex," Danny replied, leaning forward slightly to rest his elbows on his thighs. "I don't think that's something your Dad wants you to know."

"Yeah," Alex murmured, biting her lip nervously. "Who is 'we'?"

Danny shrugged. "Me, Kono, Chin, Lori, Joe White." He neglected to tell her that Joe was also bringing several members of Seal Team 9 with them. The kid worried enough about her father already; that piece of information would have – rightfully so – added more of a burden to Alex's young shoulders.

"The whole team?" Alex responded, her eyes wide. "Plus Commander White? Wow," she added, her breath slowly drawing out the last word. That meant that Uncle Danny was trying to protect her from something. If all of Five-0 and a member of the Navy were traveling across the globe to help her dad, it could only mean one thing: he _was_ in trouble.

Danny gave her a few moments and then reached over and squeezed her hand. Her attention back on him, he assured her, "If he is in trouble, you know we'll do everything we can to bring him back in one piece, right?"

Alex swallowed hard, turned her head to face the parking lot again, and then nodded. "Yeah, I do. I trust you." She gave into a nervous laugh. "Well, most of you, anyways," she added, referring to the well-known fact that she _still_ did not like or trust Joe White. Making eye contact with Danny again, she said, "I need him to be okay, Uncle Danny. I need my Dad."

"I know," Danny told her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and placing a kiss on her temple. "We don't plan on leaving there until we know he's safe. I promise." He allowed the girl to take comfort in his presence for a few minutes before glancing at his watch. "I have to head to the airport but Rachel is going to pick you up after school. She'll swing you by the house afterwards to get some clothes and anything else you might need. I know you'd probably rather stay at Tracy's or with the Sullivan's but –"

"It's okay, Uncle Danny," Alex interrupted, giving him a reassuring smile. "It was a last minute thing. Besides, I like Rachel _and_ it will give me and Grace some more bonding time."

* * *

His bruised and tortured body ached with every bump in the road; being rooted in place with arms bound provided absolutely no cushioning to the constant bouncing of the truck bed. Lost somewhere in North Korea after being betrayed by Jenna Kaye and tortured at the hands of Wo Fat over the mysterious "Shelburne", Steve supported himself upright with his right shoulder; everything else on his body was too sore. Facing a terrible fate, Steve prayed for the first time since his daughter had been kidnapped. He prayed for a miracle, for something to happen to change the course that his life had now taken. He did not fear death and he easily could face hours more of torture and more betrayal by supposed friends. What he could not face was the thought of his daughter's face when she received the news that he had been killed.

His heart was heavy; laden with the pain of betrayal and the guilt of being absolutely blindsided. He had trusted Jenna. He had wanted to help her when she had come asking for his assistance in getting her still alive fiancée back. Yet, it had all been a ruse; Jenna had lured him here for Wo Fat. Hell, it had even been Jenna who had notified Wo Fat about Alex's arrival on the island all those months ago – because of her Alex had been kidnapped and hurt. But then again, Jenna, too, had been lied to – her fiancée was dead and had been for quite some time. Maybe he couldn't blame Jenna – she had been scrambling to save the man she loved and who she thought was still alive – and she certainly had not deserved to be killed by Wo Fat.

But he couldn't allow himself to think about that now. What he needed was that miracle. He needed to see his daughter again, to talk to her at least. He needed a chance to apologize. He needed to tell her that he loved her. He needed one more moment with her before Wo Fat completed his revenge on the McGarrett family. If he couldn't hold her one last time, if he couldn't wrap her in his safe embrace, then he would have to settle for hearing her voice. He'd settle for imagining her smile and hearing her laughter. He'd be at peace when he died as long as the last vision in his head was that of his beautiful daughter and knowing that she would be well taken care of, that she would go on to live a happy life. He just needed…

The noises outside – the explosion; the gunfire – ripped his mind from its current thoughts. He couldn't even wrap his head around what might possibly be happening outside. When the flap of the canvas was pushed aside, he winced; the light intensified the pounding in his head. He closed his eyes and called to mind every memory of Alexandra that he could – her birth; the day she had taken her first steps; birthdays; Christmases; ballet recitals; all of the father-daughter dates they had taken; the look on her face when he told her he wanted full custody; her smile – and waited, with bated breath, for the gunshot that would end his life.

* * *

"Here," Rachel said, placing the towel around the teenager's shoulders. It was nearly one in the morning and she had just discovered Alexandra doing laps in the pool; a far different activity than the rigorous cleaning Rachel had discovered her doing the night before. It was only after she asked that Rachel had learned the girl had been swimming for over an hour and, if it weren't for her insistence to stop, Alexandra would probably have continued swimming until she reached the point of exhaustion. Danny had warned her of the young McGarrett's tendency to intentionally over-exert herself – he had emphasized her tendency to both clean and abandon sleep – when going through something worrisome but Rachel had never actually witnessed it for herself. Until last night.

"Thanks," Alex replied, failing in her attempt of a forced smile. Her legs dangling over the side of the pool, she moved her feet back and forth in the water, her eyes focusing on the ripples that the movement created.

Rachel joined the teenager, dipping her own legs into the water, and waited several minutes in silence before she started to talk. Despite a few attempts on Rachel's part, Alexandra had been unwilling to talk about Five-0 going to help her dad out on his overseas mission. Danny had not told Rachel very much – just that Steve had not contacted them and there was cause for concern – only that Alexandra did not know any of the details and that it needed to stay that way. Danny had expressed his concern for the teenager, especially if something terrible had happened to her father, and Rachel had promised him that she would try to help Alexandra deal with all of the emotions she must be feeling. "So, Alexandra, how are you doing?"

The teenager shrugged. "Fine, I guess." That was a lie and she knew it. Truth was, she couldn't think of anything other than the sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. The one that told her that her dad was in trouble and that made her fear that she would never hear his voice again; that she would never see him again. Ever since Uncle Danny had shown up at her school – no, ever since her Dad had told her he was leaving to help Jenna Kaye for a few days – she had felt sick to her stomach. It was the same feeling she had had that day her grandfather had been killed and all those times her dad had been injured on a mission. It was the same feeling she had had before her Mom had relinquished her parental rights. She had had that feeling again that day when her Mom had proposed the ultimatum, forcing her to choose one parent over the other. Rarely was her gut instinct wrong; she just hoped and prayed that this time it was.

"You haven't been sleeping," Rachel commented, leaving it open for the teenager to respond to at will. She did not want to push the girl into talking. She just wanted Alexandra to feel comfortable talking with her.

Alexandra sighed. "I don't sleep very much as it is." She pulled at the ends of the towel, bringing them closer together so it was wrapped tighter around her. "My dad's really in trouble, isn't he?"

"I don't know really," Rachel told her, bound and determined to keep Danny's trust if, for no other reason, than to keep Alexandra safe.

"My gut tells me he is," Alexandra said quietly. Looking up at Rachel, and locking eyes with her, she added, "I can't lose my Dad." She blinked away the tears that had begun to fill her eyes and then said, "I don't have a Mom anymore. My aunt Mary is still alive and there's Uncle Danny and Chin and Kono but… my dad… he's all I really have. I need my Dad."

* * *

Once the laughter died down, Steve allowed himself to relax back against Joe's legs, welcoming the pain in nearly every part of his body. The level of pain told Steve he had a broken rib and the marks on his chest reminded him all too clearly of the torture he had endured back in the bunker. But he welcomed it. He welcomed all of the pain, all of the blood, because it reminded him that he was alive. He was alive and on his way back to see his daughter.

He, once again, had come back from the brink of death and would now be able to continue watching his daughter grow up. He would get to see her face again. Her smile. Her laugh. The sparkle in her eyes. He would get a chance to watch her grow into a beautiful, intelligent, amazing woman. He'd be there for the rest of her cross-country meets and to hear her play the piano. He'd be there for future father-daughter dates. He would be there when she falls in love for the first time – God, help him now prepare for that day – and when she gets her heart broken for the first time by some boy – Steve already hated the little bastard who would be responsible for that moment. He would get to watch her every day achievements. He would get to experience those little moments, however brief, when he could manage to watch her without being caught, when she reminded him that everything was possible again. He would have the chance to just _be there_. With her. For her. He got to continue being her father and it was all thanks to these people sitting around him.

The last sound Steve had expected to hear when the canvas of the truck had been pulled back was Danny's voice. Yet, somehow, his friend – his _best_ friend – was there, in North Korea, with Chin and Kono and Lori and Joe and Seal Team 9. They were there to save his ass. They had all risked their careers, their _lives_, for him. They had done more than just save him because, by saving him, they had also saved Alex. They had saved her from more heartache, from more anger. They had saved her from having to go through life without either one of her parents. They had saved her from having to make some of the same choices he had been forced to make at the age of sixteen. He knew, deep down and without a doubt, that, if forced with those decisions, her life would end up eerily like his; that was his biggest fear. They had saved him, saved _them_, and, for that, he would be eternally grateful.

* * *

Despite the distance, she could hear the now-familiar sound of the metal gate that led to the driveway of the Edwards' house; the creak of the hinges as it opened. Glancing up from her spot along the side of the house, Alex, stunned by the sight of what was coming through the gate, dropped the spade she was holding and climbed to her feet. Not bothering to brush the dirt off of her denim capris, she started walking slowly towards the front of the house, towards the driveway that now had her dad's blue truck moving slowly along it. She stopped at the edge of the grass, her eyes following the truck as it crept slowly forward, finally coming to a rest at the front of the house. She watched as the driver's door open and Uncle Danny climbed out.

Everything around her stopped. It was just her and the truck. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her heartbeat. She had tunnel vision; the truck was the only thing her eyes could focus on. She couldn't feel anything except for the pounding of her heart; if it pounded any harder it would leap out of her chest. Without realizing it, she wiped her now-sweaty and shaky hands on her pants. Danny reached the passenger side of the car just as it was opened from the inside. Her dad, moving much too slowly, stepped down from the truck. He was alive! As much as she wanted to, she couldn't move; her legs felt weighted down by several ton blocks.

* * *

Stepping gingerly out of his truck, Steve winced as his feet hit the pavement. Expelling a sore breath, he stepped sideways and then leaned back against the truck. His eyes searching the grounds of the house, he finally spotted his daughter, stunned and standing in the grass near the side of the house. She was staring at him, seemingly lost in a trance. When her eyes met his, his face broke into a smile. His smile grew bigger when she finally came out of it, a huge smile appearing on her face, and ran towards him, shouting his name. When she reached him, he braced himself for pain as she threw her arms around him, clinging to him for dear life. He inhaled deeply, willing himself to ignore the pain in his ribs and chest, opting to hold her tighter against him. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head, letting his lips linger on her scalp. She was okay; he was okay. He was with his daughter again. He was home.

* * *

"Uncle Danny is right, Dad," Alex said as they stepped into the house. "The couch is the best idea for right now. At least for a couple of days." Her dad was in pain; he winced every time he took a step. As Uncle Danny had helped him walk from the car, her dad had insisted that he was perfectly fine with climbing the stairs so he could sleep in his own bed. Danny, on the other hand, had countered that Steve needed to utilize the couch for a couple of days, until his ribs were better healed and he was less likely to take a stumble down the stairs. Alex was all for supporting Uncle Danny; her dad needed to stop acting macho and just do as they said.

"Fine," Steve said with a huff, adding a shake of his head for good measure. "No point in arguing with two of you." He allowed Danny to slowly help him to a seated position before smirking and commenting, "But I need to change first. I'm not sleeping in cargos." He made a move to stand up again, but was gently pushed back down by Danny.

"Nice try, McGarrett." Danny headed for the stairs. "Stay there." As he climbed the stairs, he shouted down to Steve, "Shorts and a t-shirt?"

"Yeah," Steve replied, his eyes moving from Danny's retreating figure to his daughter who was standing in the middle of the room, just watching him. He hadn't actually had a chance to talk to her yet, to see how she had been faring with his absence. "Hey," he greeted, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Alex had to swallow hard before she could answer. "Hey." She tore her eyes away from her dad to look at Danny who was, true to character, loudly coming back down the stairs, with a pair of shorts and t-shirt in hand. Danny walked over to her dad and set the clothes down next to him. Her dad started to remove his shirt but stopped halfway, giving into a hiss of pain instead.

"Here," Danny said, reaching for the hem of her dad's shirt. "Let me help you."

Alex had always considered herself a fairly strong person. She could deal with a lot of things – she had had to overcome a lot of trials and tribulations in her fourteen years – and she had felt like she had been pretty strong throughout her dad's absence the last few days. She hadn't cried, she hadn't screamed, she hadn't complained about life being unfair; she had dealt with her fear. She had harnessed it and controlled it. She had known her dad was injured by the way he had moved but, for some reason, the moment she saw the bruises and wounds on her dad's bare chest was the moment that everything hit her. Her dad had been tortured, by whom she did not know, but it was evident that he had been. Up until that moment she had feared for her dad, she had been worried that he was dealing with something dangerous, but, in that moment, the full recognition of just what he had experienced during his trip to help Jenna Kaye hit her. "Um, while you do that I'm just gonna get some fresh air," she said, turning around and heading out the back door towards the lanai.

Once outside, she headed down to the little secluded part of their beach, using the trunk of a tree to support her as she sat down. It was only then that she let herself break down.

* * *

"I was wondering how long it would take," Danny commented, spotting the teenager under the tree. Based on his earlier conversation with Rachel, he knew that Alex had been doing everything she could to fight her emotions. Anything she could to distract herself from the inevitable, stress- and worry-induced breakdown. He brushed off her pointless apology and joined her in the sand. "He's going to be okay."

Alex nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "But he almost wasn't okay."

Danny shook his head. It wasn't a question; the kid wasn't stupid. She had seen the bruises that covered her father's body; she had seen the visible proof of the torture that Steve had endured at the hands of Wo Fat. "No, kiddo, he wasn't."

"Yeah," Alex muttered, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "It was Jenna, wasn't it? She didn't really need his help."

"It's not my story to tell, Alex," Danny told her. Alex had never particularly cared for Jenna Kaye – they had talked about it before – and it was a shame that no one else had as good of instincts as she did. They all had believed Jenna, they had all trusted her. None of them had ever imagined that Jenna was working for Wo Fat. That Jenna was the person who had given Wo Fat access to Alex within that first week of her coming to Hawaii. No one ever thought Jenna would have been capable of committing the ultimate betrayal… not when she declared to be their – Steve's – friend. Yet, Alex, from day one, had felt uneasy around Jenna. Alex was the only one whose instincts about Jenna had been right.

"Yeah," Alex said again, expelling an emotional breath. "Thanks for bringing him back to me."

Danny smiled at that. "It wasn't just me; it was all of us." He reached over and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "You don't need to thank me but you're welcome."

* * *

Stepping into the house with Danny behind her, she spotted her dad, snoring softly on the couch. It was endearing really, to see him resting and looking so peaceful. It wasn't something she was used to seeing. Maybe Uncle Danny had been right when he told her that her dad would be okay.

She and Danny made their way quietly across the room. Danny gestured towards the door and, reaching it, whispered, "Make sure he gets some sleep. And you, too." Alex nodded and gave him a smile in return. Once he left and closed the door behind him, she looked down at her dad, still asleep, still softly snoring. She reached over and picked up the afghan from the back of the couch. She gently placed it over him and then, bending down, she kissed him on the cheek. "Love you, Daddy," she whispered before heading up the stairs to her room.

* * *

**A/N: Please read and review! Mahalo!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: This one is the shortest I have ever posted, only because I am headed out for 3 days of field training and then I'll be in the process of moving and getting situated into my new job. I wanted to post something before I am away for 3-4 weeks. **

**Thanks to those who have stuck with me throughout the many delays in posting. As always, please read and review. :)  
**

* * *

Coughing and then wincing at the pain in his ribs, Steve rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Slowly sitting up, Steve was surprised to find that he was covered with an afghan; he had not been covered when he had fallen asleep earlier. Turning so his feet rested on the ground, he picked up his watch from the coffee table and, checking the time, he was surprised to find that he had been asleep for three hours. "Alex!" he shouted, rubbing his hand across the stubble on his face. Not getting a response, he figured that maybe she, too, had decided to take a nap. At least he hoped so; she looked exhausted.

Sucking in a breath, he climbed to his feet, wincing at the pain in his torso. He headed to the kitchen, filled a cup with water, and downed one of the prescription pain pills that had been given to him by an Army doctor in South Korea. He waited for a few minutes and then, his decision made, he headed for the stairs. He'd deal with his daughter's lecture and later – because he just knew that Alex would tell him – he would deal with Danny's lecture as well.

When he got upstairs, he found her sitting at the table on the balcony, her head bobbing in time to the music on her iPod – for once, it actually wasn't at an insane decibel level – and textbooks open in front of her. He stood there for awhile, using the door frame for support, and watched her. Her brown hair flapping occasionally in the wind, her foot tapping in time with the music, an occasional smile dancing across her face, her eyes lighting up with newfound knowledge; this was one of those moments that Steve loved most in life. He shifted uncomfortably in place; he had come so close to losing the chance to experience moments like this ever again.

He moved towards her, tapping her on the shoulder as he claimed the seat next to her. Looking over at him, she took the ear buds out of her ears. "Hey," he greeted, sending her a warm smile.

"Hi," she returned, her eyes scanning him for any signs of pain. He had winced when he sat down but, other than that, he didn't look to be in too much pain. That, coupled with the fact that he had been through enough in the last few days, made it an easy decision to not lecture him about climbing the stairs when he was not supposed to.

"What are you working on?" Steve asked her, nodding his head towards the pile of homework in front of her.

"Everything," she replied with a shrug. "Well, almost everything. Already finished my history and English assignments and Chemistry is almost done."

Steve smiled at her. "Good," he replied, taking a moment to look out at the beach and water behind the house. No matter how long he had been away from Hawaii, the tranquility of the scene behind his house had always been a welcome sight. "How much longer do you think you have? I was thinking we could go grab a bite to eat."

"Aren't you on pain killers?" she asked him, her eyebrows raised in question. "You're not supposed to drive –"

"I can drive the five minutes it takes to grab some shrimp," Steve interrupted her, his voice gentle and not at all annoyed. "How long?"

"For Chemistry? Ten minutes maybe," she told him. "But I want to try to get everything done before I go to sleep tonight."

"Why? When's it all due?"

"Monday."

Although his body still thought it was on Korean time, his mind told him that today was only Wednesday. That left her plenty of time to complete her homework. He didn't understood why she was so rushed to get it done today. "Monday?"

Alex nodded. "Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, Dad, and, on Friday, I kind of wanted to go to the mall with my friends." Setting down her pencil, she quickly added, "If that's okay with you."

_Thanksgiving. Oh, shit. _"Damn, Thanksgiving," he said, an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart, I forgot all about it. I don't have anything to cook for tomorrow."

"It's okay, Dad," she assured him, adding a smile to her words. "Thanksgiving isn't about the food, anyways. It's about being with the people you love." Swallowing the lump that appeared in her throat, she added, "And, now that you're back, this Thanksgiving is going to be extra special."

Steve could only return her smile; his daughter had a way of making him experience emotions that he normally did not. He hadn't thought it was possible to love his kid any more, yet, once again, she had reminded him of everything that was right and just in the world. All the hell that he'd been through in his life, it was all worth it because of her. Because of moments like this when she reminded him of just how important his existence was in this world. No matter what happened, at the end of the day he was always needed and loved.

He watched as she diverted her attention back to her homework. As she worked on balancing a couple of chemical equations, he closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh ocean breeze and enjoying the feel of the sunshine on his face. Opening his eyes several minutes later, his gaze lingered on his daughter and, for the first time since returning from North Korea, Steve felt sick to his stomach as his mind transported him back to that day several months ago when Alex had been kidnapped. Before Wo Fat had put a bullet in her, Jenna Kaye had admitted to being the person responsible for informing Wo Fat that Steve's daughter had arrived in Hawaii. Ultimately, Jenna had played a crucial role in Alex's kidnapping. Eyeing his daughter as she closed her textbook, he figured that now would be as good a time as any to talk to her about everything that had happened. As Alex dragged her Geometry book closer, he said, "I need to talk to you about something."

Stopping mid-motion, Alex eyed him, her face asking the question for her. "It's about where I've been the last few days," he said, wincing at the pain in his ribs as he shifted in the chair.

"Okay," Alex replied, removing her hand from the book and sitting back in her chair. "Jenna lied to you, didn't she?"

Steve didn't respond right away. Even though Alex had never been rude or disrespectful to Jenna, it was no secret that she hadn't liked the woman. If only Steve had his daughter's gut instincts. "Yes, kind of."

Catching the look on his daughter's face, he proceeded to tell his story. "You remember that Jenna thought her fiancée had been killed? Well, when she found me the other day, she told me that she had found proof that he was actually still alive and being held captive." He swallowed as he considered his words. His daughter knew enough to know what things should be kept in confidence. If he told her exactly where he had been that would give her yet another secret to hold onto deep inside of her chest. "He was being held captive some place that Americans aren't supposed to go so it…"

"Iran or North Korea?" She kept her eyes locked on his as she added, "Either way I know what you're going to tell me is something I can't tell anybody else."

He should have expected her question. "North Korea."

Alex nodded, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "Okay."

"I agreed to help her because I really thought I could help negotiate to get her fiancée back alive." He watched his daughter's expression, searching for any sign of negative emotion, any sign that she was not ready to shoulder yet another secret of his. Finding none, he continued, "We were in the jungle when an old enemy of mine showed up." Seeing his daughter's eyes widen with understanding, he confirmed it for her, "Yes, Wo Fat. He really did have Jenna's fiancée and he used that to convince Jenna to lure me to North Korea."

"That's why you didn't call."

Steve nodded. "I was being held in a bunker and…"

"He was dead, wasn't he?" Alex interrupted. "Her fiancée?" It just didn't make any sense that Wo Fat would have kept the man alive; it was more like Wo Fat to kill him and then _pretend_ he was alive just to convince someone to work for him.

Steve nodded again. "Yes. He'd been dead for awhile, I guess."

"So Jenna betrayed you all because she _hoped_ he was alive? She didn't have any physical proof? She lied to you and everyone else at Five-0 all because –"

"She also helped save my life, Alex," Steve interrupted, not at all surprised by the anger found in his daughter's tone. "When she realized that Josh was dead, she dug her fingers into his decaying flesh and pulled out a surgical pin that had been in his knee. She was able to slip that to me before Wo Fat killed her. Because of her I was able to get out of the handcuffs and –"

"It doesn't matter, Dad," Alex interrupted again. "She _betrayed_ you. She was supposed to be your friend and, instead of wanting what was best for you, she lured you to what could have been your death." Anger coursing through her veins, she forced herself to take a deep breath in order to calm down. "I'm guessing she's the reason Wo Fat knew I was here. She's the reason he was able to kidnap me."

"Alex," Steve said soothingly. "I understand that you're upset and that's okay. I would be, too, if I were you, and I can never forgive her for the role she played in your kidnapping."

Alex understood what he didn't say. "But you forgive her for taking you to Wo Fat? You forgive her for taking you to be tortured. You forgive her for leading you –"

Steve interrupted her. "It's not that I forgive her, Alex." He shook his head, trying to clear it of the slight buzz he was getting from the pain killers. "It's that I understand why she did what she did. She thought her fiancée was still alive."

"How does sacrificing you make what she did okay?" This time Alex allowed her voice to take on a tearful tone. "How does taking my Dad away from me – maybe for _good_ – make that okay?"

"She loved him, Alex," Steve explained. "He was her whole world and…" He shook his head again. "If it had been you out there, I would have done the exact same thing as Jenna did."

"Even if you didn't have proof I was still alive?"

"You can bet your butt I would."

"You would sacrifice one of your friends – Danny or Chin or Kono – for some insanely small chance that I was actually alive?" Her tone told him that they would never see eye-to-eye on this situation.

"For you," Steve replied, hoping like hell he never again had to worry about his daughter being taken from him, "For you I would sacrifice everything."

Alex didn't say anything for awhile as she just looked at him, her eyes searching his for answers that Steve knew he could never give her. When she finally did answer, it wasn't quite what he expected. "It makes me happy to know that you love me that much, that you would sacrifice everything and everyone to come save me but I… I couldn't do what Jenna did. To me, there is no justification in the world for sacrificing one friend for some ridiculous, unproven chance that someone else was alive. Especially when Wo Fat is involved."

* * *

**A/N: I'm curious as to what everyone thinks about the different viewpoints of Alex and Steve in regards to the North Korea situation. Does the dichotomy make sense? Would you have expected Alex or Steve to feel differently about it? **

**Also, if there is anything specific you would like to see included in future chapters, feel free to send them my way. I can't promise that all suggestions will be included, but there's always a chance!  
**

**Mahalo!  
**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: So I'm finally done with training and have moved to a new state. I'm still in the process of unpacking and getting situated but I, obviously, have been able to get back to writing. Parts of this have been written for awhile so I just had to work on tying it all together. This chapter ties up some loose ends from previous chapters but it also has some really sweet moments. I think, after this, Alex's life will finally turn into that of a normal teenager's (not that being a McGarrett is normal, lol). Hopefully it's not too rushed or confusing. **

**I hope I haven't lost too many of you during my writing hiatus. As always, please read and review. Mahalo!  
**

**Warning: use of some adult language.  
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* * *

"We had met before, didn't we?" Alex asked her question as she strolled across the sand towards him. Over the course of the last six months, she had always had an uneasy feeling around him – trusting him was innately impossible – yet she had never been able to figure out why she felt that way. Then suddenly, while she was sitting in the chair watching Chin and Malia take their wedding vows, it had hit her: Joe White had lied that day back in July when her dad had re-introduced them to each other. The last time he had seen her before that day had _not_ been in Annapolis when she was three, which is what he had told her dad.

"Alexandra," Joe greeted with surprise on his face as he turned around to face her. Two weeks ago, after Steve's rescue in North Korea, he, along with Danny, Chin, Malia, Lori, and Kono, had spent Thanksgiving at the McGarrett house. That day, after surprising Steve and Alexandra with plates of food for the meal, the teenager had found him in the backyard and thanked him for saving her father's life. That conversation had been the longest he had ever had with her – albeit five minutes – and he had felt like finally she respected him enough. She had never been rude to him – Steve had raised his daughter better than that – but Alexandra had never exactly warmed up to him. Yet, since then, Alex had barely said two words to him, despite having several opportunities to do just that. "Of course we have. I knew you when you lived in Annapolis, remember?"

Reaching him, Alex shook her head. "No. I mean, that's not what I'm talking about." His face not betraying a single thing, she added, "You were there: in Seattle on the ferryboat." For some reason, not even twenty minutes ago, an old memory had surfaced; a memory that included her and her grandfather on a ferry boat and her being told to go sit on a nearby bench while her grandfather talked to an "old friend". She must not have been any older than seven at the time but she knew, without a doubt, that Joe White had been that old friend.

Joe studied the teenager for several long seconds. Her statement was true: he _had_ been in Seattle many, many years ago, to meet with John McGarrett regarding a certain responsibility he had been tasked with just over ten years prior. He just had not expected that the girl would remember. "Yes," he finally replied. "I saw you and your grandfather on the ferry boat."

"Why did you lie to my Dad then when you told him that the last time you saw me was –"

"I –"

Joe's attempt at interrupting the girl was thwarted by her own interruption. "No disrespect, Sir, but I think you're lying to my Dad and I don't like that." Crossing her arms in front of her, she added, "He was tortured, Sir." _And he has nightmares about it, too. _

In the weeks since her dad had been back from North Korea, he had suffered a nightmare almost every night. The first couple of times she had failed at waking him and, instead, had just stood in the doorway to his room, tears streaming down her face, watching as he moaned and wiggled – it was like he was struggling to free his hands and legs from something – and, when he had screamed out, it had made her jump in place. She had spent the rest of the night – and many after that – just sitting in the corner of his room, rocking in place, completely heartbroken at the sight of her dad – the strongest and bravest man she knew – stuck in the throes of a nightmare. She had finally understood what her dad must have felt all those months ago when she herself had been suffering from nightmares.

Finally, on the sixth consecutive night of his nightmares, she had managed to wake him up. Of course, she had been knocked backwards and onto the floor when the lightest of touches she had placed on his arm had scared him half to death. That should have taught her a lesson but, the next night, much of the same had happened; she still had the bruise on her arm where her dad had grabbed her. After that, when it came time to wake him up, she had just sat on the floor in his room, her back against the wall, and poked him with a fishing pole she had brought in from the garage. When that was unsuccessful in waking him up, she just sat there watching him, abandoning her own sleep and using his cries to piece together more and more of the story about Shelburne and North Korea. Her dad still felt really bad about having had hurt her but she didn't hold it against him – it wasn't his fault.

Alexandra became more of her father's daughter every day; that much was clear to Joe. Steve certainly had his work cut out for him as the girl got older, bolder, and more confident. "Lying about what exactly?"

"Shelburne."

"Shelburne?" Joe had not realized that she even knew about Shelburne.

"Yes," Alex said, her tone taking on a sarcastic and disrespectful tone. "You know: that _thing_ that caused Wo Fat to kidnap me and torture my dad. The _mystery_ that got my grandfather killed."

Spotting Steve in the distance and headed their way, Joe spoke quickly. "I don't think your Dad would appreciate you asking about Shelburne. Let him and I –"

"Sir," Alex interrupted, her gaze steady as she looked at him. "I don't think my Dad would appreciate you lying to him. You know more than –"

"There you are, Sweetheart." Alex stopped mid-sentence at the sound of her dad's voice. She turned to spot him walking barefoot towards them across the sand. "I was wondering where you disappeared to."

When neither Joe nor his daughter responded to him, Steve asked, "Everything okay?"

Joe spoke up, his eyes locked with the teenager's eyes; she refused to drop eye contact with him. "Your daughter and I were just talking about Seattle – she was telling me about the ferry boats."

Not oblivious to his daughter's intense focus on Joe, Steve asked, "Alex? Are you –"

"Everything's fine, Dad," Alex answered him, her eyes never leaving Joe's face, before adding, "Ferry boats."

The sound of her voice told Steve it was a lie but, for now, he had other pressing matters to tend to. "Do me a favor, Sweetheart, and head back up to the party. I need to talk to Joe for a few."

* * *

Rejoining the reception, Steve looked around for his daughter and, much to his chagrin, spotted her conversing – no, more like _flirting_ – with a couple of teenage boys. Still rattled by his conversation with Joe, he decided to let the teenagers be. Sure, he had looked forward to being able to dance with her at some point tonight as promised but, still feeling guilty for the bruises he had accidentally left on her arm, he would just let her have fun for the next couple of hours. Even if it was with a group of boys – why did his daughter have to be the only teenage girl at the wedding? Unless, of course, she ventured off alone with _one_ of the boys; he'd turn over-protective dad in a heartbeat. Heading over to the seat he had vacated ten minutes ago, he rejoined Danny at the table.

They just sat there, not saying anything and drinking their respective Longboards, watching the scene in front of them. Chin and Malia were standing in the middle of the dance floor, their song long since over, gazing into each other's eyes, so very much in love with each other. Kono was at another table with some of her cousins, her laughter echoing in the air. Lori was chatting it up with some friend of Malia's whose name he couldn't remember. Everyone looked so happy. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to surprisingly find his daughter standing there. He must have zoned out while watching everyone – when did the music start playing again? – and had missed seeing that she had left her group of newfound friends.

"May I have this dance?" his daughter asked, a smile dancing across her face as she held her hand out towards him.

"What happened to your friends?" Steve asked, ignoring her hand and nodding towards the teenage boys.

She shrugged. "One of them asked me to dance but I told him no."

"Really?" Steve said, forcing his face to not reveal just how thrilled that statement made him. "Why?"

Withdrawing her hand, she answered, "Someone once told me that when it comes to dancing with guys I need to make sure I always dance with the best man in the room because I deserve the best."

Slightly amused – it was _him_ who had told her that – he decided to play along. "Sounds like that person is pretty smart; really good advice." His comments had the expected effect: she rolled her eyes before giving into a laugh. Turning serious again, he asked, "So the one who asked you to dance – he's not the best one in the group?"

She shrugged. "I don't know." Looking over her shoulder at the group of boys, she added, "Maybe he is." Turning back around, she continued, "But he's not the best man here. None of them are." Locking eyes with her dad's, she added, "You are." She let her comment hang in the air for several long moments, unable to determine what she was seeing flashing in her dad's eyes. "So," she finally said, holding out her hand, "may I _please_ have this dance?"

* * *

She caught the tennis ball with one hand. Her attempt to bounce it again failed miserably as she dropped it when her dad's voice came booming from across the hall. "Alexandra McGarrett!"

"What?" she asked innocently as she looked up at him from her spot on floor.

"Don't what me," he told her, glaring at her from the doorway of his office. "How many times do I have to tell you to _stop_ bouncing the ball against the window of my office?"

"I'm bored," Alex replied, choosing to not answer his rhetorical question.

Steve sighed. Of course she was bored. Here it was a Friday afternoon – the last Friday before Christmas break started on Wednesday – and he had been forced to drag her to his office with him instead of heading directly out for their father-daughter date weekend. He had requested the entire weekend off from the Governor to ensure that he could spend every waking second with his daughter. She had surprised the hell out of him the week prior when she had insisted on dancing with him for, not only the first dance, but _every_ dance at Chin's wedding reception. Then he had felt especially blessed to have such an open and close relationship with Alex when she had opened up to him, without any interrogation on his part, about what exactly she and Joe had been talking about. To say he was angry with Joe when he found out that he had lied to him – why had Joe traveled all the way to Seattle to visit with his father? – would be an understatement. He had not exactly approved of Alex confronting Joe like she had admitted to doing but he couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride for her willingness to stand up against something she thought was wrong. And Joe lying to him – it was about so much more than Seattle – was definitely not right. He loved his kid and he owed it to her to make sure she knew it by spending as much time as he could with her without any chance of interruptions. He'd be doing that right now if he had the choice but such was the consequence for not keeping up with paperwork all week. "Do your homework."

"Finished," she told him, standing up and leaning against the wall facing him.

Of course it was. "Go watch TV in the conference room."

"You're kidding me, right?" Her question was accompanied by a look on her face that suggested he was an idiot for even suggesting such an idea. Then again, maybe he was an idiot – the only time in the last six weeks she had watched TV was when she joined him in watching the occasional football game.

Steve sighed again and reached for his wallet. "Go get a smoothie," he suggested, pulling a ten dollar bill out of his wallet. "Thirty minutes. I want you back here in half an hour."

"Thanks," she said, a smile lighting up her face as she took the money from him.

"And make sure to bring me my change back," he added as she moved down the hallway.

* * *

Gathered around the trunk of Kono's Cruze, Steve opened the shopping bag and peered inside. Satisfied, he gave Kono a smile. "Thank you so much, Kono. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, Boss," Kono replied, returning his smile. The errand he had asked her to run had been far too easy; the pictures and descriptions that Steve had given her had made it all too simple for her to pick up the last of Alex's Christmas presents. Steve had already purchased the two big items – big in the sense of price – but had not found the time to pick up the other items. Seeing that Steve would be stuck at the office finishing up reports from the week, Kono had volunteered to help him with the shopping. After handing over enough cash, he had texted her pictures of the remaining items with appropriate sizing and description of where in each store the item could be located. "Here's your –"

They both quickly turned towards the sound of Chin and Danny yelling for them. "Reports of a man yielding a weapon," Chin reported, running towards them with Danny on his heels. "A knife or a gun; reports aren't consistent." Then they all heard the frightening, very loud sound of a mob of people screaming from what must have been two blocks away.

Taking their Kevlar from Chin, Kono and Steve put them on, securing them in place. "From where exact—" Steve's question caught in his throat as his brain put two-and-two together. "Oh shit! Alex!" he shouted, pulling his gun out from the back of his pants and taking off in the direction of the smoothie shop.

* * *

Skidding to a stop about fifteen yards from his daughter's favorite smoothie shop, Steve could almost literally feel his blood pressure rising; panic threatened to override any rational thought. Alex was standing there, in the entrance to the shop, her smoothie cup on the ground at her feet, the pink colored beverage covering her flip-flop clad feet; behind her, with one arm wrapped around her chest to hold her in place and a second hand holding a knife against the flesh of her neck, stood a man that Steve had never seen before. Never in his entire life had Steve seen the look of sheer terror that now graced his daughter's face.

"You don't want to do this," Steve said, putting his gun in his thigh holster and holding up his hands in a non-threatening manner. He wanted nothing more than to put a hole in the guy's head but aiming at the man would also put his daughter in the crosshairs. "Let the girl go." He was not about to let the guy know that he was related to the hostage. Behind him, he could sense Chin and Danny as they fell into place somewhere behind him.

"You mean your daughter, Commander McGarrett?" The man spoke with a thick Eastern European accent. "Isn't that right, Alexandra," he continued, lifting the knife to brush the tip against the skin of her cheek. "This man's your daddy."

Alex didn't answer; her eyes searched her father's, hoping for some sort of guidance. She was trying not to cry but she was terrified.

"Answer me!" the man yelled, pressing harder on the knife, drawing a trail of blood across her cheek.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Steve yelled, grabbing his gun and aiming it at the man. "You –"

"Dad," Alex said tearfully, tears rolling down her face. "Daddy."

"Shut up!" the man yelled, wrapping his left arm tighter around her and pressing the knife against her neck.

"What do you want?" Steve asked as he forced himself to tear his eyes away from his daughter's face. "Whatever it is, I can get it for you. Just let her go." When the man didn't answer, he continued, "I promise – whatever you want I'll make sure you get it." He stole a glance at his daughter; she was staring at the man's wrist, a confounding expression on her face. Odd. "You want a hostage? Take me."

"No!" The man shouted in reply. "This has nothing to do with you. This –"

"He's Boris, Dad!" Alex shouted, wincing as the tip of the knife drew a small drop of blood from her neck. His face was different, as if he had ripped off the face of someone else and sewn it back onto his own – like that movie Face/Off that she had watched with Brian when they were 11 even though they weren't supposed to – and his voice was a little different, too, but she knew it was him because of the tattoo. The man had forgotten to cover his tattoo! "His tattoo." She had forgotten all about it until, just now, that particular memory had been triggered by the site of his inked wrist.

_Tattoo? _Alex had never mentioned her kidnapper – the "mean one" as she liked to call him – having had a tattoo. Was it some detail that she had just now remembered or was this her way of attempting to distract the man? "Tattoo?" Chin's voice in his earpiece was echoed by a similar one from Danny. "What tattoo?"

"Boss," Kono's voice came through the earpiece. "I'm in place."

Steve didn't bother to glance upward; he knew Kono had climbed to the rooftops and strategically placed herself in clear view of the scene. "Alex, it's going to be okay. I promise." Steve said, scrambling for an idea on how to proceed. If this was any other hostage situation – if the hostage was anyone but his daughter – he would proceed differently. "Boris, I—"

"Shut up! Stop talking!" He tightened his hold on the teenager, his arm pressing forcefully against her windpipe. Tapping the knife against her bloody cheek, he shifted his weight onto his other foot. "This is what's going to happen." Pointing the knife at Steve, he continued, "You are going to stand there and let your daughter and I go for a walk." Tapping the knife against Alex's cheek again, he added, "It's time I show your daughter what happens to people who steal."

There it was: the man was referring to the wallet that Alex had stolen from Boris's partner in crime. As a result of Alex's actions, Steve and his team had been able to identify the second kidnapper as a HPD cop named Martin Engler. Now dead, it had been Engler who had provided them with Boris's name. Boris had fled the country and Steve had pretty much resolved himself to accept the fact that the man would never be caught. Yet, for some odd reason, here he was, targeting Alex again and all because of a wallet? None of it made sense. Steve wondered if Wo Fat had once again employed the usage of Boris.

"Dad," Alex pleaded again, her eyes wide with fear.

"It's going to be okay, Sweetheart," Steve told her, hoping she could draw some strength from the false confidence in his tone. "I –"

Just then, Boris raised his hand that held the knife and scratched his head. Alex took the opportunity and bit his exposed forearm. Everything that happened after that seemed to happen in slow motion but, when reviewing the situation hours later, it was determined that the whole thing was over in less than three minutes.

"Alex, run!" Steve shouted, his weapon aimed at Boris who made a swiping motion with his hand in an attempt to cut her. Alex took off down the alley and, when Boris stupidly attempted to chase after her, Steve pulled the trigger, hitting the man where he aimed – the back of his knee. He didn't want the man dead, not yet anyways, but he did want to know if Wo Fat was responsible for bringing this man back to the island.

"Daddy!" Steve followed the sound of his daughter's high-pitched scream only to spot her being dragged backwards, at gunpoint, towards a waiting van, by a second man. Before he even had the opportunity to respond, Steve saw the man push Alex inside the side door of the van and then, after a gunshot rang out, the man fell face forward on top of Alex. Panicking – reason told him no – Kono was a great shot – but the dad in him wondered if Alex had been shot – Steve ignored the squirming man on the ground and took off down the alley. Not even halfway to his daughter, he heard a gunshot ring out from behind him but he paid it no mind.

"Alex!" he shouted, reaching the van and pulling the man's lifeless body out. "Alex!" he repeated when he saw the front of her body covered in blood and her eyes closed. "Alex, Sweetheart," he pleaded before shouting for somebody to call an ambulance.

"Not."

"What?" Steve asked, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Her eyes were now open and she was staring up at him, terror still in her eyes, her breathing irregular. He started to raise her shirt, searching for any signs of a bullet wound. "Stay still, Sweetheart. I need to –"

"N-n-not," she repeated, sitting up and feeling slightly woozy as her eyes drifted past her dad to the dead man lying on the ground behind him. "M-m-m-mine."

"Okay," Steve said, acknowledging Chin's arrival with a mere nod of his head. He continued to check her for injuries, not quite able to believe it until he confirmed it for himself. Finally satisfied that she had not been shot – she had cuts to her face and neck, a minor head wound to her temple, and a few scrapes on the bottom of her feet that must have happened after losing her flip-flops during her mad dash down the alley– he returned his gaze to her face. "Don't look at him, Sweetheart," he told her when he saw what had captured her attention. When she didn't obey, he pushed his body between hers and the dead man's. He rested his fingers against her bloody cheek and started to wipe away the blood. He stopped when she winced; her eyes filled with tears.

"She okay?" Chin asked, taking in the dark red blood that covered Alex's shirt.

"No," Steve said, his hands starting to shake. "Yeah. I don't –" He shook his head and let out an anxiety-laced breath. "I…"

"Ambulance is on its' way," Chin said, glancing back down the alley to see Danny talking with several members of HPD, including Duke. "ETA: 2 minutes." Looking back at the teenager and noting Steve's anxiety, he asked, "Can you walk?"

Alex nodded and then, moving much too quickly, did not have time to warn her dad. The result was vomit all over his boots.

* * *

"I'm just going to step outside for a minute," Steve told his daughter. The EMT's had checked Alex over at the scene, cleaning her face of the blood and taping both the cut on her temple and cheek. They had provided a set of scrubs; her blood-soaked clothing had gone into an evidence bag. Having been given the all-clear – she exhibited no signs of a concussion; her vomiting had been attributed to her having seen a dead body for the first time – Steve had whisked her back to Headquarters while his team remained behind to gather evidence and deal with clean-up of the scene. Duke or another HPD officer would be stopping by later to get both his and Alex's statements. Danny, Chin and Kono had just returned to the office and, having motioned for him to join them, he stood up from the couch in his office.

Alex didn't say anything but the death-like grip she had on his hand told Steve that she was terrified to let him out of her sight. "Okay, Sweetheart," he said, sitting back down and embracing her. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he repeated, "Okay. I'm not going anywhere." He sat there until she finally stopped trembling and then said, "How about you go out there with me?" He needed to hear what his team had discovered during their investigation of the crime scene but the only way that would happen now was if Alex was with him. She needed the security of him next to her but she did not need to know any of the details of the case – who the second man was; why Boris had returned; if Wo Fat had been responsible for this second attempt on Alex's life – so, in order to prevent that from happening, he would make her wear noise cancelling headphones.

A couple of minutes later, Steve and Alex joined the team in the conference room. After getting Alex situated – right next to him, her hand still grasping his, headphones in place, her eyes closed as she rested her head against his shoulder – Steve asked his team, "Okay, what do we have?"

* * *

"Boss," Kono said, her voice transmitting to the earpiece Steve wore in his ear. "You need to see this." He was sitting in his truck outside of the house that Boris had been renting. Alex was asleep in the back seat – he had managed to sneak a mild sedative into her dinner – most people wouldn't approve of his methods, of that he knew, but she needed something medicinal to help her relax – but, until now, he had allowed his team to enter the house without him. On the off chance that Alex woke up, he knew she would freak out if he wasn't there. But, now, hearing Kono's words, hearing the inflection in her words, he decided to head inside, hoping that he'd be back in the truck before his daughter woke up.

"What'd you fi—" Steve's breath hitched in his throat when he stepped into one of the bedrooms in the house. The walls were covered with photos, all of which showed that Boris Balakov had been in town much longer than the two months he had been renting the house. On top of that, here was proof that Boris had been following Alex and not only from afar. Two whole walls were covered over with pictures of Alex. Some of them were taken from quite some distance – Alex and Josh riding their bikes; Alex walking into their office building accompanied by him or Danny or Chin or Kono or Lori; Alex walking into the front entrance of her school; Alex and Kono surfing; Catherine, Alex and Grace walking out of the nail salon – and others that, upon seeing them made Steve sick to his stomach, were taken in very close proximity. The latter of these photos, nearly covering an entire wall, made them all very much aware of just how close Boris had come to being able to take Alex without any of them being the wiser. He had pictures of Alex at cross-country practice and another of her at a couple of her meets, including the State finals. There were pictures of Alex's backpack and the bag she used to carry a change of clothes – taken from _inside_ the locker room – as well as pictures of Alex sitting at one of the picnic tables outside of the school. There were even a few pictures of him and Alex taken outside of her school on that day of Mokoto's death, when Steve had panicked and rushed to his daughter's school. The son-of-a-bitch had been in the parking lot the whole time!

"There's more," Chin said, tearing Steve's attention away from the hanging photos. Chin was holding an open manila folder, flipping through a series of photographs that rested inside of it. Steve stepped over to him, his eyes widening in a combination of shock and concern when he saw that every item in the folder was a picture of Cindy. Many had obviously been taken while Cindy was in Hawaii – there were pictures of her leaving her hotel room both alone and with David – but also many that appeared to have been taken in Seattle. Steve couldn't stand Cindy – his respect for her had vanished years ago and had only been made worse over the last few months – but she was still the mother of his child and he was concerned for her well-being. Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed a number, groaning with frustration when he reached her voicemail, "It's me. This isn't about Alex and please don't ask any questions. Just please text me that you're okay." Hanging up, he expelled a breath and looked around the room. Why the hell would Boris have spied on Cindy? None of it made any sense.

"I got something!" Danny said, stepping into the room with a tape player in one gloved hand. "I think we've figured out the mystery of the microchip." Spotting Steve, he decided to hold off on pressing the play button. "The one Alex found in her chemistry book? There's about a dozen tapes back there and…" He hadn't had time to listen to all of the tapes but from the few that he had listened to it was clear that Boris had been spying on the teenager for a very long time. Looking at Steve, he continued, "It was him. Boris put the device in her book."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Warning for language.**

* * *

"I almost lost her again, Cath," Steve said, speaking into the phone. "How many times am I going to come close to losing her?"

"I know it's hard," Catherine replied, her mind still trying to wrap around what Steve and Alex had been faced with earlier that day. No parent, no fourteen-year-old, should ever have to face violence in the way that Steve and Alex had, once again, been forced to deal with. Her heart ached at the terror that both Steve and Alex had felt and she was beyond angry with the fact that some man, the very man who had kidnapped Alex, had returned to inflict more turmoil and hurt on the girl that she had come to love as if she were her own flesh and blood. "And I'm not trying to take away from what happened today but you have to try to focus on the fact that you didn't lose her. She's alive and safe and sleeping right down the hall."

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing at his tired eyes with the heel of his hand. "Thing is, Cath, I don't know if she's going to be able to move past this." The look of sheer terror that had graced her face while Boris had held her at knifepoint was an image he could not get out of his mind. That look had only provided him a mere glimpse into the terror coursing through her brain. The way she had screamed for him when the second man had her at gunpoint; that scream still echoed in his head. Alex had not spoken a single word since she had thrown up all over his shoes. Instead, she had regressed back to that state of a small child, much like she had been when she was three; very clingy, quiet, and timid. The uncharacteristic child-like state that she had taken on terrified the hell out of him; it was such a different response than the one she had exhibited after her kidnapping nearly seven months ago. Based on her behavior, he was absolutely terrified that there was no coming back from this. "She's scaring me." _I'm scared to death that this is going to destroy my sweet, innocent girl._

"She'll be okay," Catherine assured him, wishing she could be there in person to help him and Alex through this. They both needed as much support as they could get right now and, even though Danny, Chin and Kono were an excellent support system, she knew that he needed her to provide a kind of support – not sex –that only she knew how. Steve didn't open up to other people like he did with her and she knew that he needed to release the over-abundance of emotions that this afternoon's events had caused. "She's a tough kid. She's your tough kid and, if nothing else, you've passed your resiliency, strength, fortitude, and 'never-give-up-without-a-fight' attitude onto her. Not being okay isn't in her blood."

"You really think she'll –" He lost his train of thought when he spotted his daughter, staring down at her shirt as she shuffled down the hallway past his room. Then he heard the sound of the shower – he had never heard the bathroom door close – turn on. It didn't make sense that she wanted to shower at this time of night – early morning to be exact – but, still, he waited several long moments for the bathroom door to close. When it never did, he said, "Alex?" He only barely heard Catherine ask him what was going on as he pushed back the covers and got out of bed. "Alex," he called again as he headed, shirtless, towards the bathroom. "Alex!" he screamed when he spotted his daughter standing, fully clothed, under the spray of the much too-hot water. He could see that her skin was pink and, in one spot on her forearm, it looked like a blister was beginning to form. Her cheek, which had been taped closed earlier in the day, was now oozing a little bit of blood. Phone still in hand, he rushed over to the shower. "I gotta go," he said quickly into the phone before reaching in and turning off the water.

Instantaneously, the room was filled with a bloodcurdling scream. "Blood," Alex screamed, reaching to turn the water on. Struggling to fend her off, Steve was surprised at her strength when she pushed him away and turned the water – this time it was cold – back on.

"There is no blood, Sweetheart," he told her. He allowed her to remain standing under the water – for now, the cold wasn't doing her any harm – before repeating, "No blood." It was breaking his heart to see her like this; she was completely out of it, lost in a daze and trapped in the torture of her own mind.

She pulled on the bottom edge of her t-shirt, holding it out at an angle. "So much blood," she said, picking up the bar of soap and starting to scrub her shirt. "I can't get it out. I can't. I can't." Frustrated, she abandoned her shirt and started to roughly scrub her arms with the soap bar. She was completely oblivious to her father; she didn't hear him calling her name and telling her that there was not any blood.

"Alex, stop," Steve said, reaching out to grab a hold of her hands. When she pushed him away again, he repeated, "Please, Sweetheart, just stop. There isn't any blood."

"I can't get it out," she said again, tears now streaming down her face. "Help me," she finally pleaded, stopping the scrubbing of her arms and holding out the bar of soap.

"Alex, Sweetheart," he said, taking the bar of soap from her. Opting for a different approach to bring her out of her daze, he continued with a tearful voice, "I think – I think you got it all."

"Gone?" she asked, inspecting her arms, hands, and clothing.

"Yes, Sweetheart," Steve told her, reaching around her and setting the soap down in its holder. "The blood is gone." He then reached over with a shaky hand and shut off the water. He turned around and pulled a clean towel off of the towel rack. As he started to wrap it around her shoulders, she said, "Blood, his blood. It was everywhere." Without another word she slid against the wall of the shower until she was seated in the bathtub. Then, hugging her knees to her chest, she started to rock in place as anxiety and the effects of the ice-cold water took over her body.

Not caring that his ass was going to get wet or that he would be sore for cramming himself into the much too small space, he climbed into the bathtub, taking a seat next to her. Feeling her shivering against him, he leaned forward and grabbed a second, larger towel off of the towel rack. He wrapped that around her, rubbing it up and down her bare arms, hoping the friction would help to warm her up a little – he would sit with her until he could move her to a warm, dry place – before wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. "It's okay now," he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "You're safe."

"B-b-blood." It was the only word she would say and she kept repeating it as she sat there, shivering against him.

Steve tucked her tighter against him, knowing that nothing he would say could help. Nothing he said or did would help erase his daughter's memory of being covered in a dead man's blood. Feeling miserably helpless, he just sat there, whispering that she was safe, until, finally – it seemed like hours later but was really only twenty-five minutes – his daughter stopped shaking. Only then was he able to extricate both of them from the tub, directing his daughter to go change into dry clothes and then, after replacing his wet shorts for dry ones, made them both a cup of tea before re-bandaging the cut on her cheek. Then, he sat with Alex on the couch until she fell asleep, her head on a pillow in his lap.

* * *

"'Mornin', Sunshine," Danny greeted when Steve opened up his front door.

Running a hand across the stubble on his face, Steve yawned. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty," Danny answered, taking in the sight of an exhausted Steve, stuck up hair and all.

"Since when are you up this early?"

"I brought breakfast," Danny answered, holding up the two bags he was holding, one in each hand, intentionally not answering his question. He had no intention to tell Steve that Catherine had called him an hour ago, asking him to please go check on both Steve and Alex. Apparently, Catherine, after Steve had bid her goodbye on the phone without ever actually hanging up, had overheard a rather heartbreaking situation early that morning. All Catherine had to do was mention that she suspected Steve was not doing as well with handling yesterday's events as he claimed to be and Danny was awake and ready to go check on his friend.

Steve glanced inside of the house and then back at Danny. "Alex is still asleep but okay, come on in." Opening the door wider for Danny to enter, he continued, "I appreciate the gesture, Danny, but you know that neither one of us eats malasadas."

"Exactly why I stopped by your daughter's favorite café and bought the omelets and fruit salad you both love so much," Danny replied, his voice quieter than before as he spotted the sleeping teenager on the couch. He headed into the kitchen, setting both bags on the counter. Opening one, he removed a travel carafe and handed it to Steve. "Here."

"Thanks," Steve replied a little apprehensively. Danny being here, especially with food and coffee at this time of morning, was strange.

As he unpacked the bags containing their breakfast, Danny observed, "Rough night?"

Steve took a sip of his coffee. "Alex. She…" He trailed off when his daughter walked into the kitchen, stopping just inside the doorway. She looked utterly exhausted, with bags under her eyes and her hair a tangled mess. "Hey, Sweetheart."

"Good morning, Kiddo," Danny greeted, forcing his face to not betray his concern about her looking worse for wear. In addition to just looking plain exhausted, the bandage on her cheek – when had it been bandaged? – the last time he saw her it had been taped – was a pale red color from what must be an oozing wound and there was also a bandage on her forearm. His concern grew even more when Alex, who didn't reply to either his or Steve's greeting, sidled up next to her father and nestled herself under his arm. Generally Alex was an affectionate kid but even that kind of behavior – very childlike – was unlike her.

Feeling his daughter wedge her way under his arm and bury her face in his shirt made Steve feel like it was the year 2000 all over again. Alex, who had turned three that year, was exceptionally shy and, even if she had been introduced to one of his or Cindy's friends on a previous occasion, she would always hide behind his leg, burying her face in the leg of his pants, hiding her face from whomever they were with at the time. At the time, Steve thought Alex would always be a shy kid but she had grown and changed so much since then. She had grown into one of the least shy people he knew; yet, here she was, eleven years later, regressing back to the way she had been as a three-year-old. All because of that bastard Boris. Setting down his coffee on the counter, he expelled a breath and dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "Hungry? Danny brought breakfast."

Alex peered out at Danny and then glanced at the food on the counter. When she didn't move or respond further, Steve patted her on the arm. "C'mon, Sweetheart." He dropped his arm and nudged her gently. "I need to re-bandage that cut. Go eat and I'll get the first aid kit."

* * *

When Steve ventured upstairs, Danny grabbed the food off of the counter and followed Alex into the dining room. She claimed her usual spot which faced the beach in the backyard but she remained mute, not looking at him or at the food that he placed on the table. "I ordered your favorite from that café – you know, the one whose name I never remember," he said, attempting to get some response out of her. Failing, he opened up one of the bowls of fruit salad and set it in front of her with a fork. "Eat up, kiddo." She picked up the fork and started pushing the pieces of fruit around in the bowl. Claiming the seat next to her, Danny said, "Not feeling the fruit, huh?" Opening the box of malasadas, he continued, "Malasada?"

Alex looked at him and then put down her fork. After he took one bite, she grabbed the malasada right out of his hand and then pulled the box in front of her. Seeing the look of surprise on his face, she pushed the bowl of fruit in front of him and handed him the fork. "Oh," Danny said, "you think you're funny or something?" He should have expected the teenager to critique his eating habits in some manner; Grace and Alex must have some sort of agreement to improve his diet. When Alex gave him a brief smile – it was so quick that he almost missed it – he gave into a smile of his own. Hearing a chuckle behind him, Danny said, "Shut it, McGarrett." The smile he sent Steve afterwards expressed his mutual happiness over Alex's smile.

Setting the first aid kit on the table, Steve claimed the chair at the end of the table, near his daughter. "Why aren't you eating?" Opening the first aid kit, he took out the necessary supplies and, not getting any response from his daughter, he continued, "C'mon, Alex, you need to eat something." In addition to her silence, Alex had refused to eat dinner last night; both were causes of concern for him.

With a sigh, Steve carefully and gently removed the bandage that he had placed on his daughter cheek just five hours ago. He uttered an apology when she winced after he sprayed a disinfectant on the cut. When she mumbled something, he stopped what he was doing, hand in mid-air. "What did you say?"

Avoiding his eyes, she said quietly, "Are you mad at me?"

The first time she speaks in fifteen hours and the first words out of her mouth are to ask him if he's mad? "What?" Steve asked, totally confused, as he set the fresh bandage on the table. "Why – what – of course I'm not mad at you. Why would I be?" When Alex slightly shrugged and then slumped her shoulders, he prodded, "C'mon, Sweetheart, talk to me. Tell me what's –"

"Mom," Alex interrupted, her eyes facing downward looking at her lap. "Boris – he…" She shook her head and swiped a hand across her damp eyes. Looking up, she locked ashamed eyes with her dad and continued, "Stranger."

Still confused – his daughter was trapped somewhere between that regressive child-like state and the rational teenager that she really was – Steve sat back in the chair and thought for a few moments._Stranger__. _The only thing he could think of was the conversation about stranger danger that he and Cindy had had with her multiple times as she was growing up. Steve studied his daughter a little longer before crouching down in front of her and saying, "I don't understand, Sweetheart."

Alex sighed and started to tap her foot nervously. "Mom," she repeated, an anguished sound coming through in her voice. Looking at him with tears in her eyes, she explained, "He had her picture. He said he knew her." Dropping eye contact, she missed the look that was shared between Danny and Steve. She fiddled with the drawstring on the sweatpants she was wearing – she apparently had a stash of his clothing in her dresser – and continued, "I never would have talked to him if…" She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "He had Mom's picture."

_Son-of-a-bitch_. Not only had Boris threatened her life, but he had also made her feel guilty about the whole thing because he had found a way to play on her vulnerabilities prior to holding her hostage. Embracing her, he said, "No, Alex, no. This isn't your fault. It would have happened even if you didn't talk to him."

"But what about Mom's picture?"

Pulling back, he studied his daughter's face. Even after all the pain Cindy had caused, she was still Alex's mother; Alex would always worry about her. With a glance towards Danny, he answered, "I'm sure it was just a picture that he found online or in a newspaper." Over the years, Cindy and the corporation she had started had often been mentioned in news articles. He had kept track of her over the years, only because he wanted more information from her than she had been willing to tell him herself. If her business ventures ever went south and since he doubted Cindy would ever tell him in the event that it did, he needed to know for no other reason than to make sure his daughter was well taken care of. One year, four years ago if he remembered correctly, there had been so many articles written about Cindy that he had lost count. "You know how easy it is to find a picture of her on the internet."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," he said, forcing a reassuring smile on his face. "You know your mom – she's always fine."

"Okay," Alex replied. Then, she spotted the used bandage on the table and her eyes went wide. "Blood," she stated before instantly vomiting. All over her father again. Hearing him sigh, and on the verge of tears, she managed to apologize. "Daddy, I'm sorry."

Kissing her on the forehead, he said, "It's okay, Sweetheart." Choosing to ignore the feel of vomit between his bare toes, he continued, "Why don't you go upstairs and change out of these clothes. Go wash up. Okay?"

* * *

When he returned to the dining room with a roll of paper towels and a garbage bag – he had rinsed his feet off in the downstairs bathroom – Steve dropped to his knees and started scrubbing the floor. How Alex had even managed to still have something in her system to throw up amazed him. He couldn't remember the last time he had been thrown up on – maybe when she had acquired the stomach flu during a visit to see him when she was six – but now he had the pleasure – or not – of having been covered in his daughter's vomit twice in two days. The funny thing is, it hadn't even fazed him when she had thrown up on him either time; my how being a parent had changed him.

"You just lied to your daughter, didn't you?"

Steve took a moment to respond. "Yes, I did."

The answer to Danny's next question was exactly what he had feared. "You haven't heard back from Cindy?"

"No." In fact, worrying about Cindy was another reason he had not slept last night. After getting back to the house last night, and after ensuring that Alex was fast asleep in her room, he had tried, unsuccessfully, to contact Cindy again. As much as he despised the woman, as much pain that she had caused, and with all of their disagreements aside, she was, and always would be, Alex's mother. She would always be the woman that he had once fallen in love with and who, because of their daughter, he would always love, at least a little. Knowing that the same son-of-a-bitch who had hurt Alex twice had also followed and spied on Cindy made him very concerned. If the man, who had gotten away scot free after Alex's kidnapping, had taken a risk to come back to Honolulu for the purpose of hurting Alex again, then, to Steve, it made sense that Boris had had another agenda as well. If Cindy had been targeted, it would behoove him to find out why. His concern had grown when Cindy had not contacted him after the many messages he had left for her.

"What are you going to do if you don't? What if –"

With a final sweep of the floor, Steve stood up. With trash bag in hand, he looked at Danny and said, "I don't know, Danny. If something happened to…" he trailed off and expelled an uneasy breath. "All I know is that my daughter has been through way too much. She woke up at 2:30 this morning thinking she was covered in that asshole's blood. She… I'm not sure she can handle anymore. If something happened to her mother…" He trailed off again, dropping the garbage bag on the table as he reclaimed his seat.

To Danny, it looked like _Steve_ couldn't handle anymore. Sure, he could handle the usual violent crime cases that their team picked up on a daily basis. But as a father whose daughter had been kidnapped, emotionally wrecked by her grandfather's death, abandoned by her mother, and then hurt again by the same man who had kidnapped her seven months earlier, Steve had dealt with more than his fair share. It was perfectly understandable if Steve was emotionally drained. "What about you?"

"What about me, Danny?"

"You've been through a lot, Steve," Danny said, reclaiming the box of malasadas. He took a bite out of one and then, with his mouth full, continued, "Maybe when you take Alex to see her therapist on Monday you might want to consider going, too." Catching the look Steve gave him, he said, "Nothing's wrong with seeing a therapist – I mean, I've been trying to get the Neanderthal side of you to see one for quite awhile now – and maybe it will help Alex if you're there, too." _Maybe it will help both of you_.

They stayed quiet for several minutes until, as if Danny hadn't even spoken at all, Steve finally said, "She can't know, Danny." Catching Danny's eye, he continued, "She can't know about the pictures and if something happened… Alex can't know."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: The first half of this is still a little heart wrenching (sometimes, characters have a mind of their own and I _have_ to oblige) BUT the second half might bring a smile to your face. :) I hope it does anyways.  
**

**My apologies: I just realized that I have not thanked anyone for commenting on this. I could blame it on the training, new job, and relocating to a new part of the country, but I will just say that I feel absolutely horrible for not thanking all of you sooner. So… **

**A huge thank you to: FicreaderT, Guest, Gear's Girl, sunny irish, Craftygirl11, JM Reagan, loveRandB, Cathyfromohio, francis2, lanteaddicted, NYR88, narwhayley, Kahakainani, Margaret5875, RaeTucker, stellaSMacked, lynnrxgal, tessab, HBSpud, Hope and love, Duchess of Lantern Waste, BlondeShamrock, LadyAilith, Taylorr, Mara-DragonMaster, zaja, ncis42, BenJoh, eviltimewaster. You all are amazing and I appreciate every single word you have written in a review or private message. Thank you!**

* * *

"You remember how this works, Alexandra," Victoria Knight, a therapist specializing in adolescent psychology with a sub-specialty in trauma, said, sitting down in the plush chair across from the teenager who sat on the overstuffed sofa. It had been over two months since she had released Alexandra McGarrett from a regular therapy schedule. Alex had made so much progress after her kidnapping – her nightmares had vanished; her anger and guilt had diminished; she was back to her normal self – and Victoria had expected to never see the girl again. "You set the stage – we will talk about whatever you want and we don't even have to talk in here, if you don't want."

The too-quiet girl's ears perked up at that. "Can we go to the healing garden?"

Victoria smiled. She knew that not all kids – heck, not even all adults – responded well to clinical settings. In her line of work – helping teenagers deal with their emotions after experiencing some sort of traumatic event – it was important that each of her patients feel completely relaxed during their appointments. For some of those patients, getting outside of the clinical setting - at a park across the street; outside on a bench; in the cafeteria; anywhere in close proximity to the hospital really – really helped with the recovery process. Alex was one of those kids and, for her, the healing garden of the hospital was her preferred location to talk.

* * *

"I'll be honest," Steve said, "I'm not a big fan of therapists." For himself, of course. For his daughter, that was another matter entirely.

"As a former military man myself," Robert Montgomery replied, looking across the small office at Steve. "I completely understand." Crossing his legs, he asked, "So what exactly made you decide to come see me?"

"My daughter." Throughout the entire weekend, during which he and Alex had decorated the entire house for Christmas – and by entire he meant _entire:_ Alex had found his mother's old Christmas village and had set up an elaborate "town" in the dining room; she had made him go out and buy a crap load more of lights to decorate the outside of the house; when she wasn't satisfied with the number of ornaments he had, he had to go buy more of those, too, along with window cling decals, fake snow, and Christmas themed wall decorations – Alex still had been relatively quiet, had barely eaten anything, and still was not sleeping but her enthusiasm for getting the house ready for Christmas had made Steve feel a little less concerned for her - Danny's suggestion about him needing to consider seeing a therapist as well had floated through his mind. Even still, it wasn't until late last night, after re-watching the sixth Harry Potter movie, when Alex had asked him what he was going to do while she was at her appointment that he had made the decision to try to meet with a therapist as well. He knew that had been the right decision when, that morning in the car on the way to the hospital, his daughter had been shocked yet visibly pleased when he told her that he, too, would be seeing a therapist. He got the feeling that knowing her father was talking to a therapist was going to help her recovery. For that, it was worth all of the discomfort he would feel bearing his pains and worries to a stranger. "She's being seen next door and I'm doing this because I think it will help her."

"Your daughter," Montgomery echoed. Having sensed a change in Steve's demeanor when he mentioned his daughter, he asked, "How old is she?"

"Fourteen," Steve replied, before starting to ramble like he always did when it came to talking about Alex. "She's my whole world and she's been through hell. I thought life would finally go back to normal – that all the pain she's had to deal with because of the kidnapping and her mother and – and I just thought we were past that but then Friday happened and…" he trailed off, shaking his head and going back to feeling uncomfortable.

"You worry about her."

"Doesn't every parent worry about their kid?"

"Good point," Montgomery said, giving into a chuckle. Turning serious again, he asked, "Are you scared that something else tragic will happen to her?" He was more curious to know if Steve felt that he worried more than most parents; if his fear was crippling. Shifting in the chair, he explained, "I mean, does your worry –"

He was interrupted by Steve answering his first question. "I am terrified every second she's not with me."

* * *

"Are you scared that something else will happen to you?" Although it had not been in complete sentences and much of it had been a very childish description, Alex had just told her what had happened on Friday afternoon. Victoria now understood Steve McGarrett's panicked phone call on Friday evening, requesting an emergency session with his daughter on Monday morning. It was no wonder that Steve had wanted his daughter here so quickly; she would have wanted the same for her son if situations were reversed.

Alex's fingers continued to toy with the flowers near the bench that they were sitting on; it took her several minutes to reply. When she did, it was probably one of the most honest truths she had ever admitted to herself. She honestly felt that her dad was the only person in the world who could protect her and who could rescue her from anything bad that happened to her. Just by being in the same room with him, she felt that no harm could come to her. And, yeah, she actually didn't even care if that fact made her sound like a baby or some childish, daddy's girl. "I'm scared every second I'm not with my dad."

* * *

"And I know I can't just lock her in a room or glue to her my side for the rest of her life," Steve said, rambling, not so much in a conversation with the therapist but with himself. "I know that she has to live and that she has to experience things and that, sometimes, those things are horrible. I know I can't always protect her from getting hurt. I know all of that but I just can't wrap my mind around why this shit keeps happening to her."

* * *

"I know that bad things happen to people," Alex said, standing up and walking around the small space of the garden. "I know that life's not perfect and that it's full of hurt, sorrow, disappointment… death. That stuff happens to everyone at some point." She shrugged. "I just kinda wish all the bad stuff would stop happening to me."

"That's perfectly understandable," Victoria told the girl. "Let me ask you something," she continued, watching the girl pace back and forth. "I know you said you get scared when your dad isn't around but is there anything else that happens to you when he's not around?"

Alex stopped pacing and looked at her. "You mean physically?" When the therapist nodded, Alex started pacing again, this time because of nervousness. "My hands get clammy and shaky and I feel like I can't catch my breath." She wasn't stupid; she knew that she had been experiencing panic attacks – even _before_ Friday – but she didn't really want to say those words out loud. She didn't like knowing that she was suffering from panic attacks. Catching a nod of understanding from Mrs. Knight, she admitted, "Maybe I should have picked my mom."

That comment caught Victoria off guard. Confused, she asked, "What?"

"My mom came back."

"Back?" Victoria asked, not entirely understanding Alex's nonchalant tone. What her mother had done had caused profound pain within Alex and it had taken weeks of multiple appointments each week for Alex to start to come to terms with her mother relinquishing her rights. "When?"

Alex shrugged and resumed her pacing. "About a month ago. She said she made a mistake by giving me up. She said she wanted to be in my life again and for me to live with her again. But it was all a lie. All she wanted was me to stop talking to my dad for the rest of my life. But I couldn't do that so I picked him."

"Okay," Victoria said. Then, trying to get the girl to understand her own thought process, asked, "But now you think you should have picked your Mom?"

Alex nodded. "All this bad stuff that keeps happening to me is hurting my dad. He shouldn't have to – I shouldn't be the reason he doesn't sleep or –" She stopped pacing and looked at Victoria. "Know what? I think I'm done talking for today."

* * *

"Are you sleeping?"

"Sure, I sleep," Steve answered. "I sleep like I did when she was a newborn." Steve gave into a small smile at the memory. Sometimes he wished he could go back to those months right after her birth. Even though he had barely been twenty years old when she was born, everything was so simpler then – Cindy and he were still in love; his father – even though their relationship sucked – was still alive; Alex hadn't been bruised and scarred by the world; _he_ hadn't been bruised and scarred by the world – and, some days, he wished he could hit the rewind button, wrap his baby girl in a pink blanket, rock her to sleep in a rocking chair, and stay in that time forever.

"So not very much," Montgomery commented, remembering those long, sleepless nights after each of his four children were born.

"No," Steve admitted. "When she has nightmares, I don't sleep. When she is sick, I don't sleep. When she –" He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's my kid and I'm all she has. When she needs me, I'm there for her. Even if it means I'm up all night, every night, because every time she closes her eyes she sees herself covered in someone else's blood."

"What do you mean you're all she has?"

"Her mother relinquished her parental rights," Steve answered. He was very much aware that Kono, Chin, Catherine, Danny and Kamekona all cared deeply about his daughter but he was still the only parent Alex had which meant that he had to be the first one there any time she needed anything. She was his child and, at the end of the day, his existence only mattered if his daughter was well cared for by him.

* * *

"Alexandra McGarrett."

At the sound of that voice – the voice of her nightmares – Alex stopped in the middle of the hallway. Slowly turning around, she looked at the person who had just come out of the elevator – he was in a wheelchair, wrists handcuffed together, an IV bag hanging from a pole attached to the back of the wheelchair, wearing a hospital gown and slippers, one knee bandaged, and he was being pushed by a HPD officer – and she felt a cold sweat start to run down the back of her neck. Her eyes drifted to the small circle of blood on the sleeve of his hospital gown. Feeling the urge to vomit, she covered her mouth with her hands and took off down the hallway.

Victoria did not follow her quickly enough because, by the time she reached the storage closet at the end of the hall, Alex had ventured inside and locked the door. "Alex! Alex, honey, unlock the door."

The only response she got from the teenager was one phrase, repeated over and over again. "I want my dad. I want my dad."

* * *

"Alex," Steve said, knocking on the door. He couldn't believe it – of all the hospitals on the island, HPD had to choose _this one_ to relocate Boris to – and now, as a result, his daughter had locked herself in a hospital supply closet. The first two times his phone had vibrated in his pocket he had ignored it – he had promised Alex that he would be there when she got done with her appointment; work would have to wait – but, on the third time, he had decided to pull it out of his pocket. To say he had been confused when he saw a number belonging to the hospital on the caller id would be an understatement. The moment he heard Victoria Knight's voice on the other end, he knew something was wrong. "It's Dad, Sweetheart. Open up."

When he heard the door unlock, he spared a glance towards Victoria Knight and then slowly pushed open the door. His daughter, who was sitting with her back against a row of shelving units, did not respond in any way to his being there. Sidestepping the patch of vomit on the floor near the door, he squatted in front of her and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm here now, Alex. Everything is okay."

"I threw up."

Steve nodded. "I see that." Glancing around the small space, it actually appeared like she had thrown up twice. "It's okay."

With tears brimming over her eyelids, she shook her head. "No." Then she threw her arms around him and that was when Steve could feel how much she was trembling. Yeah, now there was no way in hell he was making her go back to school for the last three days before Christmas break. His daughter was scared to death and she needed him.

* * *

It was now Thursday morning and, after three more early morning intense therapy sessions – after witnessing Alex's breakdown in the supply closet, Victoria Knight had offered to come into the office early, at six a.m., before her other appointments arrived -, Alex was, at the very least, talking more. She had not thrown up since she was in the supply closet – of course, that could be because she had not seen anything that even remotely resembled blood – and, although she still was not sleeping very much, – unless Steve slipped her a sedative, which he had done last night – she had not had another breakdown. She still didn't like it when he wasn't around but, as long as Kono, Chin or Danny was with her when he did, she wouldn't freak out. As she had clearly not been ready to head back to school, Steve had, after finally getting her out of the hospital and to his office on Monday, called her school and explained the situation. As her end of the semester exams were not scheduled until the week after Christmas break, there had been no problem with her missing three days of classes. He had, of course, requested all of her homework assignments to be emailed to him and, as soon as she was doing a little better, would make sure she completed them before her return to school.

Fortunately, the Five-0 taskforce had had a relatively quiet last three days, affording Steve the time to be with his daughter, in his office, in case she needed him for anything. He had managed to complete a lot of overdue paperwork while Alex had read a book, played games on his personal laptop, or just sat quietly on the couch while he worked. Her nerves had, on a few occasions, gotten the best of her and, when he got tired of her pacing the halls of headquarters, he had taken her outside for fresh air and a little bit of exercise until she was relaxed again. She had, on a few occasions, fallen asleep on the couch in his office and, as much as he would have liked to follow suit and taken a nap, his concern about Cindy had ruined that.

On Monday afternoon when Alex was in his office, listening to music on her iPod and messing around with his laptop, Steve, who had still not heard from Cindy all weekend and had, that morning, enlisted Kono's helping in tracking down David's number, discovered that his daughter's mother was, in fact, missing. David had filed a missing person's report six days ago after his wife, who he had apparently reconciled with after Cindy's visit to Hawaii, had not been seen or heard from in nearly two days. David had last seen his wife in their luxury apartment in the morning, now eight days ago. She had told him that she had plans to spend the day shopping and would see him when he got home that evening. When he had arrived home to an empty apartment, he had grown concerned and, after trying to reach Cindy on her cell phone multiple times, had called the police who told him he needed to wait 24 hours before filing a missing person's report. After he got off the phone with David, he reported what had happened to his team and then he had picked up the phone and dialed the Seattle Police Department. He told them everything he knew about Boris – his participation in Alex's kidnapping; his association with Japanese arms dealers; the facial reconstruction surgery he had done before returning to Hawaii and photographing/stalking both Alex and Cindy – but, as of yet, he had not heard anything back from Seattle PD.

Now, Alex and Josh – Steve had picked him up that morning to join his daughter in a "movie day" in the conference room – were down the hall and his coworkers were in each of their respective offices, affording him a great opportunity to take a quick nap on the couch. Signing off on the last of the case reports, Steve looked up when he heard a knock on his open office door.

"Mr. McGarrett, Sir," Josh said, stepping inside Steve's office. "Sorry to interrupt."

"That's okay, Josh," Steve said, giving the boy a smile. "What's up?"

Josh took a deep breath; he was very nervous. Stepping further into the office, he said, "I want to ask you something, if that's okay."

"Of course," Steve said, curious as to why Josh was here, in his office, instead of down the hall with Alex. Gesturing towards the chairs on the other side of his desk, he said, "Have a seat."

"Thank you, Sir," Josh said, taking a seat. Wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, he said, "I've come to ask your permission to ask Alex to the winter formal dance."

Steve didn't answer right away. He stared at the boy from across the desk; that was not what he had been expecting to hear. He knew the day would happen when his daughter would be asked to a dance – Alex was a beautiful teenager and in high school, after all – but he hadn't exactly prepared himself for this moment. It was just another reminder that his daughter had grown up way too quickly. Of course, when he had imagined this moment, he had always envisioned a squirming, anxiety-laden, 'bad boy' – being his daughter, it would have been apt payback if she had attracted the attention of some punk kid with a juvie record – appearing at the front door to pick her up and he would be forced to chase the kid away with a pistol in each hand. Only after threatening the kid's life, of course. Yet, instead, here was Josh Sullivan, one of his daughter's closest friends and whom Steve really didn't have anything negative to say about, actually asking for permission to take Alex to a high school dance. Add to that the fact that Josh had managed to maintain eye contact with him throughout the duration of his careful study of the boy. Leaning forward in his seat to rest his arms on the desk, he said, "You want to ask her to a dance?"

Josh nodded. "Yes, Sir. The Winter Formal. It's not until the end of January but –"

"Have you mentioned anything about wanting to go with her to her?"

Josh shook his head. "No, Sir." He shrugged. "I thought it was better that I get your permission first." With a glance towards the hallway, he added, "And I'm not going to ask her until she's doing a little bit better."

Steve nodded. Jason Sullivan had certainly raised his son well. He did not really see any issues with allowing Josh to go to the dance with Alex but, since he had the opportunity, he decided to proceed with some of the questions he planned on asking any boy who showed interest in taking his daughter out. "If I give my permission and she agrees to go with you, how do you plan on getting there?"

"Well, Sir," Josh answered, relaxing back in the chair. "Seth's mom is driving him and Tracy to the dance and she offered to drive us, too. But if you're not okay with that then my Dad said he could drive us."

"Okay," Steve said, leaning back in his chair. "What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?" He was very impressed when his question did not cause the teenager to squirm; Josh even maintained eye contact with him.

"Pick her up at your house, take some pictures, go to the dance and then drop her back at your house by whatever time you tell us to be back."

Steve nodded. So far, so good. He studied the boy for several long moments before asking, "Do you intend on kissing her?" It wasn't really something he wanted to know the answer to – no boy was worthy of kissing his daughter – but he was curious to see how Josh responded to the uncomfortable question.

A slight blush appeared on Josh's cheeks but he kept eye contact with Steve. "Only if she wants me to, Sir." Of course, he was not going to admit that he was pretty sure Alex _did_ want to kiss him; they had already come close to kissing on a couple of occasions. Mr. McGarrett didn't need to know that.

_Good answer._ Sitting up straight in his chair again, Steve said, "Okay, one more question for you."

"Yes, Sir."

"Let's say you and Alex are out somewhere – at the beach or the mall – when some other boys start harassing her…"

"Verbally or physically?" Not that it mattered either way; he'd still stick up for her.

"Take your pick."

"Well, Sir," Josh said, sitting up straight, "Either way I will stand up for her. If they were being verbally abusive, I would intervene and do what I could to get her away from them. If I couldn't do that, I'd do something to draw their attention to me. If they were being physical with her, I would call you and tell we needed your help, and then I would…" he trailed off for a few moments as he considered his words. "I would get physical with them, even if it means I get my butt kicked."

"Okay, Josh –"

"I'd do whatever needed to be done to keep her safe, Sir," Josh interrupted. "She's my best friend and her being happy and safe –"

"Okay, Josh," Steve said again, interrupting the teenager. The boy had, on numerous occasions, already proven that he wanted what was best for Alex; the situation with Cindy was the one that spoke most clearly to that fact. That, coupled with the fact that Alex probably could use something to look forward to – the situation with Boris had only happened five days ago – made Steve's decision easy. "You can ask her to the dance." Maybe life was going to start looking up for his daughter sooner rather than later.

* * *

"Dad?"

Waiting until after he turned onto the congested street, Steve looked at his daughter. "What?"

"I don't want them to know," Alex told him. "Not even Alyssa."

It was December 23rd and they were on their way to the Hilton Hawaii Village to meet the Boyer's for dinner. Two months ago, the Boyer's had decided to spend Christmas in Honolulu before heading to Seattle for the New Year. Steve and Alex would be having dinner with them tonight and, along with Danny, Grace, and the Sullivan's, dinner at the McGarrett house on Christmas. Then, he and Alex, the Sullivan's, and all five members of the Boyer family would spend the night of the 27th camping – the kids had requested to go _real_ camping: isolated, in the jungle, and not anywhere near where all of the tourists liked to camp – near Waimea Falls on the North Shore.

"I thought you told Alyssa everything," Steve commented, surprised at his daughter's statement. "Everything okay between you two?"

"Yes. And, I do," Alex replied. "I mean, I did." She shrugged. "I don't tell her about the bad stuff anymore."

"Bad stuff?" Steve asked, knowing it was a dumb question. "You mean –"

"What happened last week," Alex interrupted, looking out the side window. "And I didn't tell her that Mom made me choose. I didn't tell her about you getting tortured."

"Okay," Steve said, sparing another glance towards his daughter. It was news to him; the last he knew the girls talked about everything, regardless of the topic. He understood that friendships changed but, honestly, he thought his daughter and Alyssa were great support systems for each other and he had figured they still were. If she didn't lean on the Boyer's for support, who did she lean on? "You don't think Josh will tell her?"

"He won't," Alex said with confidence. "He knows I don't want them to know." Looking at him when they stopped at a traffic light, she continued, "They worried about me enough when I lived with Mom. I just…" she shrugged again. "I just don't want them to know, okay?"

"Okay." They left it at that and Steve continued to slowly make his way towards the hotel while his daughter fiddled around with her cell phone. He wasn't even concerned that her fingers had been pretty much attached to the phone for the last four hours – it was a sign that she was returning to her normal self – and, for now, he'd let her continue texting until they reached the hotel.

He was not complaining but he was still trying to figure out what exactly had happened to make his daughter come out of the depressed, frightened, and anxiety-laden state that she had been in for the last week. When they had gotten home last night, she was still very morose and had, once again, eaten very little of their dinner. She had disappeared into her room at a little after eight to read and, when he had checked on her an hour later, she was asleep in a chair out on the balcony. He had carried her to her bed, tucked her in and, for the first time in nearly a week, he managed seven hours of uninterrupted sleep. When he woke up this morning, Alex was downstairs cooking breakfast while a pot of coffee was brewing on the counter. She was wide-awake, very chipper, and _very_ chatty. She rambled on and on about a dozen different topics – Heart2Heart; the upcoming camping trip; everything she wanted to do during the three week Christmas break; a classmates' birthday party scheduled for the second of January – and then asked him if she could take his laptop to the office with them so she could work on her homework assignments. Her cheeriness continued throughout the day and, when she joined the team for lunch, she actually ate an entire meal, plus some of his. A few times throughout the afternoon he had peeked through the glass of the conference room and saw her busy working away on the laptop, textbooks opened on the tabletop beside her. The sudden change that had overcome her was strange, to say the least, but he wasn't going to complain. As long as she was doing better, he was happy.

"I'm glad I picked you."

Her offhand comment caught him off guard but he decided not to question her on it. "I'm glad you picked me too, Sweetheart."

* * *

**A/N: Please read and review. I struggled as I tried to figure out how Steve would react to seeing a therapist but, I resolved myself to the belief that, as a hurting father, he very well might respond how he did here. You may disagree and that's perfectly fine. :) Either way, I'm curious to hear your feedback. Mahalo!  
**

**In the next chapter: Christmas! And, depending on how long that ends up being, the camping trip might not be until chapter 21.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: So, I admit, I kinda fell in love with Steve by the end of this chapter. **

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for your feedback on the last chapter. This is the promised Christmas chapter, with mentions of both Doris and John McGarrett. A huge thank you to sunny irish and JMReagan for their suggestions on Christmas gifts for Steve. And thank you to the numerous readers who commented in the past that they would like to see previous Christmases shared by Steve and his daughter. **

* * *

_ "Good morning, baby girl," Steve said, picking his daughter up from her crib. After a quick diaper change, he picked her back up and carried her to the living room. "Mommy's still sleeping," he said, standing by the window and looking out at the wintry Chesapeake Bay. Kissing the thin, blonde hair on the top of her head, he walked the five steps it took to reach the other side of the room and, bending down, plugged the lights in. The room now lit up with the many blinking, colorful lights, his seven-and-a-half month old baby seemed mesmerized by the display. Picking up the ornament from the coffee table – he had had it personally made for her and had insisted that he be the one to hang it on the tree – he found the spot near the top of the tree that he had left open. He hung the ornament, 'Alexandra's First Christmas' written on it, and then, kissing his daughter's forehead, he whispered, "Merry Christmas, Sweetheart." As he settled in his recliner, having to adjust as the baby snuggled against his bare chest, he smiled and whispered, "You being born has made this the best Christmas ever."_

* * *

He had continued to have an ornament specially made for her every year with no two ever being alike. That first Christmas it had been a simple ball ornament; one year it had been in the shape of ballet slippers; another year, a gingerbread man; another, an angel. Last year he had really struggled with what kind to get her – at that point he didn't really know his kid anymore – but had finally decided on a seal since she had claimed that was still her favorite animal. This year he had also struggled but for a different reason entirely. Where last year he had absolutely no idea what to buy, this year he had too many ideas and had found it difficult to pick just one. It had taken the situation at the smoothie shop for him to finally decide; he just hoped she would like it.

"Alex," he said quietly, shifting his weight so he wasn't leaning against the open door to her bedroom. Of all days for her to sleep later than five in the morning, it would have to be Christmas. If they didn't have plans for two hours from now – plans that Alex had pretty much made for them – he would have no problem letting her sleep in. Smiling at how peaceful she looked, his mind was transported back to every Christmas he had spent with her as well as those that he had missed for one reason or another.

* * *

_"Daddy!" _

_Grinning as his four-year-old daughter ran towards him, he squatted down and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up when she wrapped her arms around his neck. He kissed her on the head and then inhaled, breathing in the scent of what was pure little girl: flowers and soap; beauty and innocence; life. Adjusting her on his hip, he took a long, hard look at her – he had last seen her four weeks ago and it was amazing how much she had seemed to grow since then. "Hey there, beautiful girl," he greeted, his eyes locking with hers. _

_"Daddy, you made it."_

_Kissing her on the forehead, he whispered so quietly that not even Alex could hear him. "Yes, Sweetheart, I made it." Glancing past her, he spotted Cindy standing several yards away in the middle of the crowded airport. He had to feign a smile in return to hers; it had only been three months ago when she had moved out, taking their daughter with her. He had agreed to her taking Alex – with his training and work schedule, it was what was best for her – but that didn't mean it hurt any less. He missed seeing his daughter every day. He missed being able to watch her discover new things on a daily basis. He missed her falling asleep in his arms every night. Cindy was to blame for all of that – if only she would have agreed to try to work things out – but he couldn't let Alex know there was any ill blood between the two of them. For Alex, he would put a smile on his face and be nice to her mother. "What, Sweetheart?" he asked, only partly aware that his daughter had been talking to him. _

_"Can we go on the boats?" Turning in his arms, she glanced at Cindy. "Mommy doesn't want to. She says it's too cold."_

_Steve smiled at her. "Don't tell her I said this but it's always too cold for Mommy." Hearing his daughter's giggle made his smile grow bigger. "Of course we can go on the boat ride." Finally moving, he walked towards Cindy. "But let's go home first so I can change my clothes. Then you and I can spend the rest of the day together, okay?" He wasn't sure if Cindy had any plans for the rest of the day – it was Christmas Eve – but, frankly, he didn't care. Where Cindy got to see her every day, he hadn't seen his little girl in a month; he was going to spend every waking second with her for the next five days. _

* * *

That had been an enjoyable Christmas, with Alex insisting daily on walking around in his dress shoes and hat, pretending to be a sailor just like him. They had gone on the ferry boats that day, just the two of them, and the next day, Christmas morning, he and Alex had been the first ones up. He had to make her patiently wait for Cindy to get up before allowing her to open her presents. He remembered having spent the rest of the day putting together a Barbie house and car, having a tea party with her, and curling up on the couch with her to watch_ The Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea. T_he five days of his leave had gone by too quickly but he had been grateful for the chance to spend time with her.

He had barely managed, thanks to delayed flights, to make it to Seattle the following year, finally landing just before midnight on Christmas Eve. When she was six, it had been a struggle but, after many arguments, Cindy had finally agreed to allow Alex to visit him in Coronado for the holiday. Of course, Alex had ended up with a stomach virus during the entire week of her visit so they had to push back their plans – visit the beach; picnic in the park; San Diego Zoo – until the following summer when she visited him for three weeks. She never visited him for another Christmas again and he had missed visiting her on the holiday when she was nine and ten. The last time he had celebrated Christmas with her was when she was eleven; that had been the last time he had seen her before she came to visit him seven months ago.

"Mele kalikimaka."

His daughter's voice brought him back to the present. "Merry Christmas, Sweetheart." Sitting on the edge of her bed, he held out a small box. Giving him a curious look, she sat up, scooting backwards so her back rested against the headboard. "This year's ornament," he told her, as she tentatively took the box from him.

She smiled. Usually, for as long as she could remember, he had made sure to give her the ornament on Christmas Eve – when he hadn't been able to visit for the holiday he had made sure she had received it in the mail in time to open it on Christmas Eve – so, considering he hadn't given it to her last night, she thought he had forgotten all about the tradition. She gingerly opened the lid of the brown box and then, after removing the tissue paper that surrounded it, she lifted the ornament out of the box.

"A Kanji symbol," Steve told her when she took her gift out of the box. Not that she needed that particular explanation; she'd taken Japanese long enough to recognize a Kanji symbol when she saw it. "Chikara. It's the –"

"Japanese symbol for strength," Alex interrupted him. "Well, one of them anyways." The Japanese writing system had so many different symbols that represented strength: one for physical strength; another for inner strength; another for spiritual strength. This one that she was holding in her hands was the symbol for overall, general strength.

Sensing her question, he explained, "You're the strongest person I know. Emotionally, intellectu—"

Before he knew it, his daughter had thrown her arms around him. "I love it! Thank you!"

* * *

Securing the cuff link in place, Steve couldn't help but smile. The cuff links were a Christmas gift from his daughter and, although she had bought them specifically with his dress blues in mind, he thought they would be a great addition to the suit he was now wearing. He found himself getting a little misty eyed at the thought of the words engraved on each cuff link: "To my hero and the best man I know. I love you, Daddy." When he had opened them, discovering the engraved message, his daughter had apologized for not always acting like she appreciated or loved him. She told him that what she had gotten engraved on the cuff links was how she truly felt, deep down, on a daily basis and hoped the links would serve as a reminder of that fact on those days when she acted like she didn't respect, admire, or love him. He knew his daughter loved him. Even on those days when she acted like a… well, like a teenager, he knew she loved him. What got to him most about the engraving was that she called him her hero and the best man she knows. Sure, she had said both of those things to him before; it made him just as emotional this time as it had then. Most fathers hoped to live their lives in a way to make their children proud. For him to know that his daughter looked up to him as an example of a good man, there really were no words to describe it.

He glanced at his watch. Then, after yelling to his daughter that they needed to leave in ten minutes, he headed back downstairs. Sitting on the couch, he picked up the 12x12 album – the other gift from his daughter – from the coffee table and started flipping through it. It was a scrapbook chock full of pictures of Alex, as well as a few additional ones, taken over the years. Alex had told him, upon opening it, that, struggling with what else to get him, she decided to make a scrapbook full of things that he had both been there for as well as those things he had missed out on. He had only flipped through the first couple of pages earlier and had seen photos of ballet recitals, school award ceremonies, and birthday parties. There were pictures of her with her friends and four whole pages of her with the Boyers.

He flipped the page, coming to another section that she had labeled, with a variety of letter shapes and sizes, as "Family". He flipped the page, spotting a picture of his father and then, in a moment that took his breath away, one of his mother. Just seeing that picture, seeing her face, transported him back to nearly twenty years ago to that last moment he had spent with her before she had died. He traced a finger along her features, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I found that in Grandpa's stuff."

Steve looked up when his daughter sat down next to him. He cleared his throat before saying, "I haven't seen this picture in a long time."

"She's pretty."

"Yeah," Steve said, before forcing himself to turn the page. On the next two pages were those pictures of him, Cindy and Alex taken at the hospital a few hours after Alex's birth. He smiled at the memory and then started to turn the page.

"Who did you think I looked like?" Alex asked, halting his movements. "Mom said she thought I always looked like you, except for my hair." She had been born with blonde hair, the same color as her mom's. "Grandpa said I looked like both of you, except for my eyes. He said they looked like –"

"My mother's eyes," Steve interrupted, locking eyes with hers. He smiled at her; she still had eyes that reminded him of his mother's. When his daughter was born, he found that she did, in fact, share some of both his and Cindy's features: his nose, her ears; she shared the same hair color and facial shape with Cindy; her eyelashes were long like his. Yet, despite all of that, the first time he had laid eyes on his daughter, he had thought she looked like his mother. Even though Alex had changed so much physically over the years – her hair was dark brown like his by the time she turned six; her face was still round but was thinner than it had been; she was slim like him – and, even though, their hair, facial shape, nose and ears were different, he still thought she looked so much like his mother. "The first second I laid eyes on you, I thought you looked like my mom." Tucking a strand of hair behind her eye, he added, "I still think you do." Smiling again, he continued, "For a lot of reasons, you remind me of her."

"Really?" Alex asked, her curiosity piqued. "When we get back from church and after our run, can you tell me more about her?"

"Sure," Steve answered, setting the book down on the table and standing up. He had bought her a GPS running watch – not the exact one she had mentioned to him all those months ago – and she had practically begged him to test it out once they got back to the house. Thrilled by her enthusiasm – it had been weeks since they had gone on a run together – he had agreed. Of course, as soon as she saw what was waiting for them when they got home later, she would probably abandon the running idea in lieu of his last gift. For now, that was still his secret; over the course of roughly the next two hours, he would prepare himself for surprise, joy and tears from his daughter.

* * *

Steve stepped through the front door of the church and, seeing his daughter and Josh standing under a tree about fifty meters away, he stopped walking and leaned against the stone wall of the stairway. Numerous parishioners were milling about outside – about half of the congregation were downstairs eating donuts and drinking coffee – and it made Steve remember those Sundays, long before his mother's death, when his own family used to attend church services here. After his father had sent him to the mainland, he had stopped attending church services, not returning until the morning of Alex's baptism. Since then, he had attended church sporadically, usually only at his daughter's insistence; this was the first time he had stepped foot inside of a church in three years.

It wasn't even that Alex attended church regularly – she usually only attended church services on Christmas and Easter – but she had insisted that the two of them go to the Christmas service with the Sullivan's. He had sensed that it had been more than just her wanting to go for the holiday but she wouldn't let him in on the secret. All of his questions had been answered when, not even half an hour ago, the pastor had announced that two young parishioners would be coming up for a piano and vocal performance of _Hark! The Herald Angels Sing_. Much to Steve and Jason's surprise – Alex hadn't shown an ounce of surprise – the two young performers were Josh and Sam, with Josh claiming the piano bench while Sam took over the vocals. As the boys performed, Alex had not taken her eyes off of Josh while her fingers were moving as if she, herself, were playing the piano. When the boys had finished their performance, they had returned to the pew, hugging their father as they did. Josh had looked at Alex and grinned; she had given him a thumbs up in return.

As soon as the service had finished, the five of them had headed downstairs. While he and Jason spoke with some of the other adults there – many were military service members – the kids had disappeared. It wasn't until Sam returned alone that Steve's father senses had kicked into gear. When he found out that the two teenagers were "outside alone", he had excused himself and ventured upstairs to track them down. It wasn't that he didn't trust Josh and Alex. He just sensed that the two, if they hadn't already, would soon move past the mere friend status into the 'friends who kiss' stage; he wasn't ready for that.

"Those two behaving themselves?" Steve glanced at Jason briefly then back at the teenagers who were laughing about something. When Steve didn't answer, Jason said, "Josh told me he got your permission to ask Alex to the dance."

"Yeah," Steve said, still struggling, despite having given his approval, with the fact that his little girl was old enough to be going to a high school dance.

"I know he's my son," Jason said, "but I'm not in denial either. I remember what it was like to be a teenage boy." Seeing Steve's visibly tense at that, he added, "But I did tell him that taking Alex to the dance – taking anyone's daughter out anywhere – is a privilege, not a right. I reminded him that I expect him to be a responsible, decent, kind, and respectful kid and that if he does anything to bring the wrath of a girls' father down on him, I will personally –"

"I like Josh, Jason," Steve interrupted. "He's a good kid; you've done a good job with him."

"Thanks." Jason said, looking out at his oldest son, whose tie was now hanging loose around his neck. "Still, Steve, I get it. No boy is ever going to be good enough for your daughter." Watching his son reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind Alex's ear, he said, "I give you my permission to lecture, yell at, and set my son straight whenever you feel the need to." Matching Steve's steps down the stairs, he added, "Just leave the killing to me."

* * *

"So," Steve said, looking over at his daughter as he turned onto their street. "Is that what you and Josh were up to the last few weeks?" With the exception of the last three days before Christmas break, Alex and Josh had both insisted on staying late after school to, as they claimed, work on a project. When asked for more details about it, neither teen had cared to elaborate. He had intended on asking her about it as soon as they got in the truck to head back to the house but Brian had called her and the two had spent the next fifteen minutes conversing in French.

Alex nodded. "Yes." She shrugged. "After that day at his house, he told me he wanted to surprise his dad by learning how to play again."

"So you taught him how to play?"

"Yes." She shrugged again as he turned into the driveway. "It gave me a chance to play some more, too, since, you know, I can't just play whenever I want to anymore."

With a proud smirk, he shut off the car and opened his door. Following his daughter to the front door, he said, "Maybe you'll find a way to be able to play every day."

Giving him a weird look, she said, "How? By moving in with the Sullivan's?"

Steve shook his head. He unlocked the door and started to open it. With a grin on his face, he said, "Merry Christmas, Sweetheart."

Momentarily stunned, all she could do was stand there, staring at the spot along the wall which separated the living room to the dining room; the spot that, two hours ago had been empty but now contained a medium grand piano. It was a Kimball, made out of walnut wood; an exact replica of the one her grandfather had bought for her. Looking up at her dad, she asked, "What? How? I mean, you…" she trailed off, unable to find the words that she wanted to say.

Smiling at her, he nudged her forward. "Go check it out."

She stopped when she got closer to it. "It looks just like the one Grandpa got me."

_I have one more surprise for you, Sweetheart. _He moved past her and sat on the piano bench. Turning his head to look at her, he said, "It_ is _the one Grandpa got for you." Her eyes wide, she just stared at him. He laughed as he waited for the initial shock to wear off. When she joined him on the bench, she visually inspected every inch of the piano. It wasn't until she lifted the keyboard cover and ran her finger over the words etched there – To Princess, with all the love in the world, Grandpa – that his words finally hit her.

"It was gone," she said quietly, tears slowly falling down her cheeks. "How –"

Wrapping an arm around her, he hugged her tightly, placing a kiss on the side of her head. That evening, several weeks ago, when he had found out that Cindy had sold Alex's piano – on Christmas of all days! – he knew he needed to try to track it down. He wasn't sure he would be able to. Hell, he hadn't even known if the piano was still in one piece, but just knowing how much that piano had meant to both his daughter and his dad, he knew he owed it to them to try to locate it. Sure enough, he had contacted the elderly couple who had purchased it and, much to his pleasure, after telling them about Alex, his dad, their relationship and the piano, they offered to return it to him. It had been a bit of a hassle, negotiating the resell price and then getting the shipping taken care of, but, last week he received notice that it had arrived. He had requested it be delivered to Kamekona's and that is where it had sat for a week until this morning, while he and Alex were at church, Kamekona and Danny, who wasn't scheduled to get Grace until noon, delivered it to the house, leaving it exactly where Steve had requested it be placed. "It's a long story, Sweetheart. All that matters is that I found it."

Mumbling something incomprehensible, she buried her face in Steve's suit jacket. One arm around his daughter, he rested his chin on her head; the other hand traced the words of the engraving. Here he was, in his dead father's living room, with his daughter; he felt like his father was there with them, wrapping them both in a loving embrace, as his soul – that loving, caring, giving soul of a man – spilled forth around them. His father's soul, the very essence that was his father – the essence that Steve had failed to see until only a few months ago – was still here. It was in the piano; in the house; in the antique car still sitting in the garage. His father's soul was here, within him and within his daughter; he would never be completely gone.

"Why?" Alex said, lifting her head and sitting up straight.

"Why what?"

"Why," she started, her eyes drifting over the piano keys. "Why did you get this back for me?" Glancing at him, she continued, "You've already given me so much."

He gave her a weird look. "I got you the watch, new running shoes, and jewelry. That's not that much."

She shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean." Her fingers brushing lightly over the ivory keys, she explained, "You gave me love and acceptance. You helped me rediscover how to be happy with myself again. You gave me a home." Locking eyes with him, she added, "You gave me a family again."

He reached over and, using his thumbs, wiped away the tears still on her cheeks. "I'm your dad," he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. "And you will always be my little girl. That's why."

Sniffling, Alex gave him a smile. "I know we said we'd go running but –"

"Yes, you can play the piano," Steve interrupted. With a nod of his head towards a small stack of books on edge of the piano, he said, "Think those might help?" When he had confirmed with the elderly couple that they most definitely would be mailing the piano to him – he had paid the shipping company prior to them picking up the piano and had sent a check directly to the couple for the same price that they had paid Cindy a year ago – he knew that she would need sheet music. So, with his father's letter in hand, he had headed to a music store. The letter that his father had left for him – the one that had been in the box left for Alex – was rather lengthy – 10 pages, with hand writing on both sides – and, included in the last page was a brief note from his dad, suggesting some ideas for sheet music in case 'Alex ever gets tired of the ones she has'.

Picking up the books that were full of sheet music, she flipped through them, smiling when she discovered many of the song titles inside. Seeing her completely immersed in the books, he kissed her on the temple and stood up. "You play while I make us something to eat."

"Dad," Alex said, halting his progress as he was one step away from the stairs. "I –"

"I know," he said, interrupting her. Smiling at her, he said, "I love you, Alex."

* * *

They never did go on their run. Four hours later, when the Boyers showed up at the front door, Alex was still seated at the piano. She had taken a brief break to eat brunch and, later, another thirty minute break to help him prepare some of the food which they were responsible for but then she had headed straight back to the piano bench. Later, when he thought about it, Steve would say it had been one of his most blissful afternoons ever. Prepping food in the kitchen while his daughter played angelic melodies on the piano; nothing could have made those four hours better.

When they had arrived, all five of the Boyers recognized the piano and, while Steve explained to Meredith and Charles how it had ended up in Hawaii, Alex and Nicholas – the only Boyer child with any musical talent – started playing a variety of Christmas songs. When the Williams and Sullivan's got there a half hour later, it had only taken five minutes before the seven children – Alex, Alyssa, Nicholas, Mason, Grace, Josh, and Sam – were leading everyone in carols. Alex, Nicholas, and Josh took turns playing while Sam, Grace, Alyssa, and Mason sang the loudest of all the kids. When Alex wasn't playing the piano, she would stand next to him, hugging his arm; the smile never left her face the entire time.

Finally, at three-thirty, the ham had finished cooking and they all – twelve in total – sat down at the dining room table to eat. After a prayer – Mason, Grace, and Sam all shared in saying it – they had filled their plates while the chatter continued. Sitting at the head of the table, Steve enjoyed the conversation he had with the four other parents present and he smiled every time he heard his daughter's laughter ring out from the other end of the table. The little kids were the first to leave the table, having ventured down to the beach out back with shovels and pails; Alyssa went to keep an eye on them, leaving the three musicians together at the end of the table. It had actually surprised Steve, and the other four adults as well, when Alex, Josh and Nicholas volunteered to clean up the table and wash the dishes.

When they came back for round two of plate pickup, Steve's cell phone rang. With a displeased look, he answered the phone. "McGarrett." While Josh and Nicholas headed back to the kitchen, Alex stayed rooted in place, watching her dad while he was on the phone. When he hung up, a nod in Danny's direction confirmed her suspicions. When Danny stood up to go get his daughter, Steve apologized to everyone. "I'm sorry." Looking at his daughter, he said, "Go grab a change of clothes and –"

"We'll stay with them," Charles Boyer interrupted. They already knew that the Sullivan's would be leaving soon – they, along with the families of other Army officers from Schofield Barracks, would be serving a hot meal at one of the homeless shelters – and there was no point in disrupting any of the fun that the kids were having together. Besides, the least they could do for Steve, after he had opened up his house to all of them for the holiday and for always treating their kids like they were his own, was to clean up from the meal and keep an eye on Alex and Grace.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, not expecting them to change their evening plans just because he and Danny were called to a case. "We might not be back until late."

"Absolutely," Charles said, his sentiments being echoed by his wife. "We'll take care of the girls."

"Let the kids continue to have fun," Meredith said, smiling at Grace when she and Danny walked into the house.

"Okay," Steve and Danny both agreed. Five minutes later, when the Camaro pulled away from the curb – Steve was driving, of course – both male occupants were looking in the mirror at the sight of two girls – one tall, one short; both with long brown hair – standing side-by-side at the edge of the driveway. The taller girl had her arm around the younger girls' shoulders. As he flipped on the police lights, Steve cleared his throat.

"Yeah," Danny said, clearing his own throat. No words were needed; sometimes, they each found it extremely hard to drive away from the beautiful girl who gave them their purpose for living.

* * *

"So," Steve said, settling into place in the bed of his truck next to his daughter. "Marshmallow people?" He and Danny returned back to the house about an hour ago, around three a.m., to discover a scene of marshmallow people covering the expanse of the dining room table. Meredith and Charles, coming in from where they had been sitting on the lanai, had told them that Alex had shown the other kids how to build marshmallow people and, from there, it had expanded into a full, in-depth project. There were princesses, horses, knights and, to make a castle of sorts, cereal boxes. It was clear to Steve that he was the only one in the room who had ever heard of marshmallow people before. Then again, it had been him that had created the activity for his injured five-year-old daughter during a visit to see him in Coronado.

_"Hey there, Sweetheart," Steve said, setting down his bank account statement to look at his daughter, now sporting a cast on her left arm, who was standing in the entryway to the living room, rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes. She ran over to him and he picked her up, settling her down in his lap. "How's your arm?"_

_"I don't like this," Alex told him, pushing her cast into his chest. "I want to go back on the monkey bars."_

_Steve shook his head and placed a kiss to her forehead. Not even three hours ago, he had received a call from the Child Development Center saying his daughter was being taken to the hospital at Coronado Naval Air Station. When he showed up, his daughter was lying in the bed inside a treatment room; her left arm was bruised, swollen, and clearly needed to be put in a cast. When he had asked her what happened, she told him she had fallen off the monkey bars. The story that he had received from the CDC staff, however, told him that she had climbed _on top_ of the monkey bars and had fallen off when she had attempted to stand on top of them. Somewhere over the course of the last three months she had become a little daredevil, climbing anything and everything. Oh, Cindy had not been very happy when he called to tell her. It amazed him that after taking a fall like she did, after being in as much pain as she had been, his daughter still wanted to be out climbing the monkey bars. No fear in that child; absolutely no fear. _

Having been in need of a distraction, Steve remembered glancing into his kitchen, spotting toothpicks and a bag of marshmallows. Unsure of where the idea had come from, he had spent the next three hours building people and animals using different sized marshmallows and toothpicks. That day, marshmallow people were born; they had only made them once after that, when Alex was seven. He never realized that Alex remembered that particular activity.

Alex shrugged, curiously eyeing the thermos he held in one hand. "Grace was kinda having a hard time with Uncle Danny being gone so I figured that would be a good distraction."

Opening the thermos, Steve said, "Hot chocolate. Want a cup?"

"It's kind of warm for that, don't ya think?"

"Hey," Steve replied, handing her a stack of Styrofoam cups. "I know this hasn't really felt like Christmas for you, not without the cold weather or the chance of snow." Pouring one cup, he added, "I should have done this earlier but I thought this might make it feel a little more like Christmas." Pouring a second cup, he continued, "Besides, it's not really Christmas without hot chocolate."

Alex smiled at that. Yet another McGarrett tradition that she thought had been lost over the years. For as long as she could remember, whenever her dad was with her for Christmas, they would have a cup of hot chocolate before opening presents and another cup later on in the day. "Okay."

Screwing the lid back on the thermos, he set it to the side and then, taking one cup from his daughter, he said, "I didn't realize you remembered marshmallow people."

Alex shrugged again, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "I remember a lot of stuff from when I was little." _A mixture of bad and good._ She took another sip and smiled, then rested her head against his shoulder. "I remember a lot of the stuff you did for me when I was sick or hurt."

"I'm sorry this Christmas didn't turn out like we planned." That was part of the reason he had, during the drive home from their case, decided to spend the morning with his daughter at Halone Blowhole Lookout, waiting for the sunrise. He hated that he had been called to a case in the middle of their Christmas celebration and, even though she hadn't complained about it all, he felt like he needed to make it up to her.

In fact, not only did she not complain about his being called to a case, but she also, based on what Charles and Meredith had told him, had gone out of her way to make sure the other kids, especially Grace, had an enjoyable evening. After finally growing tired of their marshmallow village, the kids had all ventured to the backyard for about an hour, where they played with a Frisbee and built sandcastles on the beach. Then, all of them had headed upstairs to watch Christmas movies in Steve's bedroom. That was where he, Danny, and the Boyers had found their children, all fast asleep in the bed. Mason had fallen asleep at the foot of the bed, arm hanging off the side while his siblings were sleeping head-to-toe on one side of the bed. On the other side, Alex was curled up with one arm draped over Grace's body, as if she were the protective older sister of the younger girl. They had all roused their children out of bed – Charles carried his youngest son – and, after bidding goodbye to everyone, Steve had told Alex that he wanted to take her somewhere. Now, here they were, with three-and-a-half hours before the sun was scheduled to come up.

"Are you kidding me?" Alex asked, lifting her head off of his shoulder only for a moment. "This was one of the best Christmases ever!"

"Really?"

"Yes," Alex said, her voice expressing mild annoyance in the fact that he didn't believe her. "I mean, I didn't like that you got called to a case, but, seriously, this was one _great_ Christmas!" It wasn't just because he bought her a GPS runners watch or because of the piano. It also wasn't just because Josh and Sam's surprise for their dad had gone off without a hitch. It also wasn't because Josh had kissed her earlier, on the beach, before he had had to leave with his Dad and brother. Nor was it because of the fact that she got to spend fourteen hours with most of her favorite people in the entire world. No. Even without all of that it still would have been the best Christmas ever because she got to spend it with her dad.

Steve smiled at her comment. Then, he was forced to groan when Alex said, "What makes it even better is that t-shirt."

The shirt she was referring to was the one that he was currently wearing; Danny's Christmas gift to him. It was Navy blue in color with yellow font that said: "When it absolutely, positively must be destroyed overnight. U.S. NAVY SEALS Call 1-800-HOOYAH! Ask about our special terrorist elimination discount!" When he had opened it earlier, in the middle of dinner, everyone had gotten a good laugh out of it; his daughter had been the loudest. Yes, it was a gag gift but there was also some truth – okay, _a lot _of truth – behind the printed words. He had lost count how many times over the years his SEAL unit had been called on to perform an overnight raid of a terrorist complex; several of those, in fact, had ended with elimination of the known terrorist. And as much as his daughter liked to tease him about it, he knew that, sooner rather than later, this t-shirt would end up the same place the rest of his Navy t-shirts did: in the bottom drawer of her dresser so they would be close on hand when she decided to sleep in his clothes again.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," Steve said, resting his chin against the top of his daughter's head. "I think it was one of my favorite Christmases, too."

* * *

**A/N: A picture of the t-shirt (thanks to JMReagan for sending it to me) can be seen in my profile (if it uploads properly). Please read and review, especially if you've never left a comment before. I LOVE receiving feedback from new reviewers! Mahalo! **


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: As always, thank you to everyone who left a review on the last chapter. For everyone else who is reading but not reviewing, stop in and say hi! :) **

**I had a totally different outline for this chapter but my characters insisted on this version. **

* * *

"I'm sorry we never got to go on our run," Alex said, holding out her cup while her dad refilled it.

Pouring the hot chocolate into his daughter's cup, he replied, "Don't be; it's okay." Her cup full, he moved onto his cup. Smiling at her, he added, "Hearing you play... it was beautiful."

She gave him a smile in return. "Thanks." She took a sip of the hot liquid and then shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't realize how much I missed it."

Steve nodded understandably as he tightened the lid to the thermos and set it aside. "Well, hearing you play, it's like you never stopped."

"It's the piano." Seeing the look of disagreement on her dad's face, she said, "It _is._ Really." She took another sip of the beverage. "There's something about that piano. I mean, I played the one at the Sullivan's house and the one at school but that piano – my piano – there's just something about it." She shrugged. "Maybe it's because Grandpa gave it to me. Maybe his spirit…" she trailed off. She brought her knees up and hugged them to her chest. This was the second Christmas without her grandpa; it had been over a year since his death and still the pain felt as raw as it had in the moment when she had found out he was gone. She looked up at her dad. "That doesn't make any sense, does it?" It wouldn't surprise her if it didn't; it had never made any sense to her mom.

"Makes perfect sense actually." He stretched his legs out in front of him as he put one arm around her. "As soon as you sat at the piano I felt like Grandpa was there with us."

"Really?"

Steve nodded, interpreting his daughter's expression for what it was: she finally had received validation that what she had been feeling wasn't weird or unusual. "Yep. It felt like he was sitting there with us; hugging us."

"I'm never going to stop missing him, will I?"

_You'll never stop missing your mother either, Sweetheart. Even if you don't admit it to me, I know you miss her._ He studied her profile; the moonlight cast a glow that highlighted her long eyelashes. "Do you want to stop missing him?"

Alex shook her head. "No. Missing him makes me remember everything about him. Makes me feel how much he loved me."

"He loved you so much," Steve said, placing a kiss in his daughter's hair. "He loved all of us very much." This time, Alex's smile reached her eyes. It made her happy knowing that her dad finally believed what had been true all along.

They sat there in silence for several long minutes, drinking their hot chocolate, basking in the peacefulness of the moment. Out of the corner of her eye, Alex looked at her dad. She wondered if she should tell him about what she had discovered only a few days ago, if she should tell him what she knew. Sirens heard in the distance changed that train of thought. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can."

"It's not exactly a fun topic," Alex warned. Truth be told, it was a topic that she was sure no one ever found to be anything but uncomfortable. "It's actually something I've been thinking about since you were in North Korea."

"You can talk to me about the tough stuff," Steve reminded her. "You can talk to me about anything." He shifted his body so that he was facing her better. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering," she started, looking down at her legs uncomfortably. "If something were to happen to you, what's gonna happen to me?" She looked up at her dad, before her eyes quickly flicked away. "I mean, mom isn't around anymore and, as much as I like her, I don't think Aunt Mary is ready to become a substitute parent overnight. And it wouldn't be fair to ask the Boyer's to take care of me and –"

"Danny." His interruption completely caught his daughter off guard.

"What?"

"Danny," Steve repeated. This wasn't the first time he'd had to think about what would happen to his daughter if he died – hell, for several years there he had been forced to stare death in the face on nearly a daily basis – but this was the first time he had had this conversation with her. "If something were to happen to me, Uncle Danny would take care of you. He –"

"Uncle Danny would do that for me?"

Before he answered her, he thought back to that day, just over a month ago, when he had expressed his wishes to Danny.

_"Hey," Danny said, taking the seat across from Steve as he handed him a cup of water and some pain pills. _

_"I don't need –"_

_"Shut it, McGarrett," Danny said, shaking his head. The man had been beaten and tortured by Wo Fat and then, despite being diagnosed with a cracked rib and other painful injuries by a doctor at the U.S. military hospital in South Korea, Steve still insisted that he didn't need anything for the pain. Now, they were on a plane headed back to Hawaii and Steve had already insisted on going to Rachel's to pick his daughter up before heading home. They were due to land in just under two hours. "If you don't want your daughter to freak out any more than she already will, then you will take those pills." The fact that Steve obliged without another word of protest was a testament of just how much pain he was in. Or maybe it was just the mention of his kid._

_"Danny, I –"_

_"You don't have to thank us," Danny interrupted, glancing down the aisle of the plane where everyone else was currently sitting. "You would have done the same for any of us." _

_"Yeah," Steve agreed, slowly swinging his legs around so that he was sitting normally in the seat. "But you have Grace to worry about. You –"_

_"You have a daughter, too, Steve," Danny interrupted again, thinking about the teenager who had been terrified about losing her dad only a few days ago when he had told her she would be staying with Rachel and Stan. "And Alex needs you." Danny shook his head. "I would not have been able to live with myself if I ignored the fact that you were in trouble and did nothing to bring you back to your daughter."_

_Steve nodded his head as a lump formed in his throat. Blinking away the tears that had formed in his eyes, he decided that now was a time to talk to Danny about one of the things that had been on his mind ever since he had been rescued from the back of that truck. "Danny, I… there's something I want to talk to you about. Something I want to ask you and if you say no –"_

_"What's up, Steve?" Danny asked, toeing off his shoes and leaning against the interior wall of the plane. Feet stretched out on the seat in front of him, he had every intention of napping as soon as he and Steve were done talking. _

_"If you say no," Steve continued, "I will understand." He shifted in the seat, wincing as his ribs throbbed in pain. "For awhile there I thought that I…" he trailed off, giving into a shake of his head to clear it. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see Alex again." He swallowed a lump in his throat, blinking away the new tears that threatened to spill forth. "It reminded me that I need to update my will. I mean, it's always been that Alex will get everything of mine if I die. She still will but, with Cindy out of her life now, I need to make sure she will be taken care of when I…" He cleared his throat and took a sip of water before continuing. "Would it be okay if I appointed you as her guardian if –"_

_"You want me to be her guardian?"_

_Steve nodded. "It's not an easy decision for you. I know that. Take some time –"_

_"I don't need time," Danny interrupted. "Of course I will."_

_"Are you sure?" Steve asked._

_"I love your daughter as if she were my own, Steve," Danny answered. "You know that. But I am a little surprised that you asked me."_

_"Really?" Steve asked. Not waiting for a response, he explained, "If something happens to me, Alex is going to be devastated. You're a good father, a good man. Alex likes you; she respects you. Half the time she likes you better than she does me." Giving Danny a smile, he added, "I know Kono and Chin will help with her but you're the only one I trust completely to take care of my daughter. I know you would respect my choices on how to raise her and –"_

_"I'll do it, Steve," Danny interrupted, hearing in his friend's voice that he was getting emotional. "And just so you know, if something were to happen to you, it wouldn't just be your daughter that is devastated."_

"Yes, Sweetheart," Steve replied. "Danny loves you like another daughter." Sensing unease from his daughter, he asked, "Why? Are you not okay with that?"

"No, I am," Alex said, swirling the remaining hot chocolate around in her cup. "But I just – Uncle Danny isn't you." She looked up at her dad, tears forming in her eyes. "I don't want to lose you."

There was so much tied up in those six little words. Fear and vulnerability. Pain and sadness. Truth. Love. "I don't want you to lose me either, Sweetheart." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And I don't have plans on going anywhere anytime soon. I am going to do everything I can to make sure I get to see you finish growing up. Graduate high school, go to college and –" _Fall in love, get married._

"You promise?" Alex asked. She's already lost one parent; she couldn't lose him, too. "You're the only parent I have left."

"Promise."

"There's going to be some times when I won't act like it," Alex interrupted, "but I just want you to know that I will always think you're the best dad in the world."

Steve smiled at her. "Well, I think you're the best kid in the world and I feel incredibly blessed to be your dad."

* * *

Letting out an exasperated breath, he watched his rather impatient daughter continue to shift her weight from foot to foot. When she started to tap her foot, he sighed and said into the phone, "I think someone is rather anxious to talk to you." Sending his daughter a pointed look, he added, "I actually think she needs a lesson in patience."

Laughter echoed through the phone. "I guess I'll have to be the one to teach that lesson when I'm home on leave." Catherine laughed again. "She is so very much your daughter."

"Hey, now," Steve said, pointing with his finger to tell his daughter to sit down. "Are you implying that I'm inpatient?"

"Stating a fact," Catherine replied. "Patience has never been your strong suit."

"Well," Steve reminded her, "not being patient has worked to my advantage a few times." If he had been patient, he never would have just waited for Catherine to call him back all those years ago. His inpatient persistence made him keep calling her until she picked up the phone and agreed to a date with him. Because of that here they were, seven years later, in love with each other.

"If you're going to flirt, can you at least let me talk to her first?" Laughing at the surprised look on his face, Alex continued, "I'm a teenager, remember?" Grinning mischievously at him, she added, "I know flirting when I see it and you're getting ready to flirt." She held her hand out. "So can you please let me talk to her before you make me throw up from having to listen to you two fl—"

"Cath, we'll finish talking later," Steve said, shaking his head at both Catherine's laughter and his daughter's comment. With a loud sigh, he handed his cell phone over to his daughter. "Here." When his daughter started rushing away towards the lanai, he yelled, "And don't you ever let me catch you flirting!"

* * *

"Finally," Alex said, pulling the door closed behind her. "I thought he would never let me talk to you."

Catherine laughed. "He was kind of chatty, wasn't he?" Not that she minded. Steve had come a long way from the guy who used to only call her when he needed a favor – talking on the phone with her had never been something he enjoyed doing – and his chattiness was a sign of how much he was missing her.

"I think he misses you," Alex said, her bare feet enjoying the feel of the grass as she made her way towards the beach. "I know I do."

"I miss both of you, too," Catherine replied, her voice making it clear that her face was sporting a smile. "But you don't like us flirting?"

"I don't care if you two flirt," Alex stated, glancing over her shoulder at the house briefly. "You make him happy." Reaching the beach, she took a seat in the sand. "I just really wanted to talk to you. See how your Christmas was."

"Well, let's see," Catherine said. "I spent all day yesterday on an aircraft carrier."

"Oh," Alex said. "Too bad you couldn't be home with us. We had a _great_ Christmas!"

_Home._ Catherine loved the sound of that. "Did your dad like the cufflinks?" Alex had bounced the idea of getting Steve engraved cufflinks off of her and she thought it had been a great idea. She even loved the message that had been engraved on them. Alex was a sweet kid who really admired and loved her father.

"He loved them," Alex excitedly replied. "He even wore them to church."

"What else did you guys do?"

"He got me a piano, Catherine!"

"A piano?" Steve had also run a couple of ideas for gifts for Alex by her but he had never mentioned he was buying his daughter a piano.

"Actually, he found the piano that my grandpa bought me," Alex corrected herself. "You know, the one my Mom sold last Christmas. He found it and now it's here in our house and I get to play it whenever I want." She gave a sigh of contentment. "My dad's a great dad."

"Yes," Catherine agreed, a smile appearing on her face. Steve _was_ an amazing father – she knew that from the first time she had met him – and it was one of the major reasons that she had been drawn to him after that first night. Years later it ended up being one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him. "He is an amazing dad."

"Catherine?"

"Yes?"

"If I tell you something will you tell my Dad?"

"We've talked about this before, honey," Catherine told her. "What you tell me is kept in confidence unless it is something that could end up being harmful to you or others, if somebody hurt you, or if you're going to do something that will get you in trouble with the law."

"Yeah." That meant she couldn't tell Catherine one of the things she wanted to. She guessed she would have to find someone else to help her with that particular topic, good thing she already had someone in mind. "And if it's about a boy?"

"Same rules apply, Alex," Catherine replied. "If –"

"Josh kissed me!"

* * *

"You two kissed, didn't you?" The knowing look that passed between Alex and Josh told Alyssa what she wanted to know. "I knew it! Why didn't you tell me?"

Alex shrugged as she used the towel to dry off her legs. "I wanted to but I couldn't exactly do it the other night." With a nod towards the swimming spot at the base of Waimea Falls, she explained, "Too many listening ears and I really don't want to have to listen to a lecture from my dad about kissing and boys." Pulling her shorts on, she added, "As it is he doesn't even let me wear a bikini swimsuit like you get to." She had to be the only teenage girl on the planet whose dad made her wear a stupid tankini instead of a two-piece bikini suit. "He finds out Josh and I kissed, he'll make me go swimming in a long-sleeve shirt and sweatpants."

"It took you two long enough," Alyssa said, teasing both of them. "I mean, all that flirting you two did when I visited over the summer…" She trailed off when a slight blush appeared on both of their faces. Hearing the sound of someone whistling, they jerked their heads in the direction it came from, spotting Josh's dad gesturing for them with his hand. The three teenagers finished putting their clothes on over their swimsuits – in Josh's case all he had to do was put his t-shirt on – and then jammed their feet into their sneakers. Picking up their towels, they headed down the embankment. Still far enough away so they wouldn't be heard, Alyssa said, "If you two want to kiss again later, let me know and I'll find a way to cause a distraction so you can slip away."

* * *

Laughter rang out and the air was full with the smell of burning wood. The glow from the campfire cast a warm light on the dusk-darkened jungle landscape. Three tents, each a different size, were set up in a semi-circle behind the campfire. On rocks and logs around the fire sat the three families – Boyer, McGarrett, and Sullivan – telling jokes, singing songs – Josh had brought his guitar with him – and making S'mores. Smiles were plastered on everyone's face; happiness and serenity were abundant. For Alex, it was a nice reminder that life moved on after tragedy. It had been a pretty eventful last few months but days like this reminded her that in order for there to be a rainbow, there had to be some rain. All the crap she had dealt with, all the crap her dad had been forced to deal with, it wouldn't always be like that. Good times were possible; this was proof of that.

After swimming earlier, they had headed back into the jungle, arriving back at their previously set-up campsite before splitting into two groups to go gather firewood. She and Josh had ended up in the same group and, after letting Mr. Boyer, Nick and Mason go ahead of them, Josh had asked her to the winter formal dance. At first, she didn't know how to answer him – of course _she_ wanted to go with him but she wasn't sure her _dad_ would allow her to – but, when he told her that he had already received permission from her dad, she had immediately answered yes. She had been so excited afterwards (of course, the kiss – it had only been a mere peck but _still_ – she had shared with Josh only added to it) that she was pretty much out of it – her mind had been on anything _but_ collecting firewood – during their walk back to the campsite. As soon as she saw Alyssa, she had pulled her away from everyone else and told her what had happened. Alyssa's screeching from excitement had caused everyone to look at them. At the same time, Alex had noted, Josh had been in conversation with her dad. After that, she kept catching her dad looking at her; she purposely avoided him for the rest of the evening.

She knew she couldn't avoid her dad for too much longer as she would be sleeping in the same tent as him but she could prolong it for as long as possible. Which was why, when Mrs. Boyer caught her eye and gestured to her, Alex stood up, leaving her friends where they were, and joined her on the other side of the campfire. Grabbing two flashlights, Mrs. Boyer told her husband where they were going and then the two of them headed into the jungle, stopping when they reached a small clearing less than fifty yards away. "So, we haven't had much time to talk."

"No, Ma'am," Alex replied, using her flashlight to inspect a dead log before sitting down. "We haven't." Swatting at a mosquito, she added, "It's hard to talk like we used to since we don't live near each other anymore." Not that she had ever been completely open with Mrs. Boyer, even though she knew she probably could have been. When you are the daughter of two parents who liked to deal with things by themselves, who liked to internalize a lot of things, well… it was just in her genes to do the same.

"Yeah," Meredith agreed, taking the opportunity to study the teenager's face. The first thing she noticed was the same thing that had caught her attention two days ago: the healing cut on Alex's cheek. The teenager still looked tired and it made Meredith wonder if she was suffering from insomnia again. That or her nightmares had returned. The last few times she had talked to Alex on the phone, Alex had always seemed distracted as if something was weighing heavily on her mind. It had worried her at the time but Alex had a very loving, attentive, and capable father taking care of her so Meredith hadn't pried. Alex still seemed a little distracted by something but, much to Meredith's immense joy, that sweet, caring, compassionate kid had come shining through on Christmas night when Alex had taken care of Grace after their fathers had been called to a case. Overall, Alex seemed to be doing well but Meredith knew that there was a lot of pain buried deep inside of her; Meredith still could not wrap her mind around what Cindy had been thinking by walking out on her daughter. "How has everything been going for you?"

"Good, I guess," Alex answered with a shrug. "I'm doing well at school, although I can't stand chemistry."

"Really?" Meredith asked. Alex had always been interested in science – actually she had always been interested in learning everything that she could – and it had always come so naturally easy for her. "I always thought you would enjoy Chemistry."

"I mean," Alex said, scratching at a bite on her arm. "I get the importance of it and everything and it's easy for me but…I don't know. It's boring and I just don't like it." She gave into a laugh. "I don't think becoming a mad scientist is on my list of future career choices."

Meredith laughed with her. "No, I guess not." Pulling a bottle of bug spray out of her pocket, she handed it to the teenager. "What about your other classes?"

Alex stood up and took a few steps away before spraying herself with the bug spray. "History, Japanese, and NJROTC are my favorite classes."

Meredith smiled at her. Alex had, by nature, always been a linguist, picking up languages very easily. All she had to do was merely listen to any of the tourists they had encountered in Seattle and she would be speaking with the proper pronunciation and accents by the end of the day. She remembered Alex becoming fluent in French by the age of nine and Italian by the time she turned twelve. Alex's love for history only seemed to go hand-in-hand with her love of language; Alex herself had said that reading historical texts in their original languages was so much more enjoyable than reading them in English. Whenever she would think about the young women that her daughter and Alex would become, she had always envisioned Alex as speaking a half dozen languages and teaching history at a university some place, probably in Europe. "That doesn't surprise me one bit."

"Yeah," Alex agreed, handing the spray bottle back to her. "My school actually offers this intensive Japanese course during the summer." Sitting back down, she continued, "It costs extra money but I think dad's gonna let me take it." She had been doing so well in her Japanese class – having a dad who spoke it fluently certainly helped with pronunciation and being able to practice her speaking skills – that her teacher had offered her a spot in the one-month, four hours a day, intensive, full-immersion course which was usually offered to students who had taken at least two years of Japanese. It wouldn't be easy but she loved learning new languages and she welcomed the challenge. She didn't know if her dad could afford to send her to the class – she was very much aware of how expensive it was to send her to her school and her scholarship offer didn't extend to extra summer courses – but, knowing how much money she had in her account – and it would be a heck of a lot more once she cashed the check she had received in the mail the other day – the check her dad or anybody else did not know about – she could cover the cost of the course if he couldn't. "And if I continue to study my butt off and learn enough of it, then I might be able to skip Japanese Two and move onto higher level courses!"

"That's great, honey! I know you'll do well."

"Mrs. Boyer?"

"Yeah?"

Looking at her uncomfortably, Alex asked, "Is Alyssa happy in China?" It had been awhile since she and her best friend had specifically discussed how she was faring with their move to the other side of the world but Alex still sensed that Alyssa was struggling with being in a foreign country.

"Well, it's been a tough adjustment for her, as you know," Meredith answered, studying Alex's eyes for a sign of just how much her friendship had changed with her daughter. The two girls used to talk about everything – good or bad, it never had mattered – but slowly, over time, as most friendships did, that had changed. She had overheard enough of her daughter's phone calls with Alex to know that the two no longer shared any of the tough stuff with each other. Their conversations consisted of school or athletic accomplishments, girl talk about cute boys, or fun events they had recently participated in. It kind of broke her heart a little to know that the two, who had always been very good sounding boards and support systems for each other, no longer had that outlet for their emotions. A small glimmer of hope had appeared when the two girls were reunited; whispers, giggling, and the occasional sobering conversation were all signs that their sisterhood remained intact. "But, yes, she's doing okay. I think she just misses Seattle and all of her friends."

Alex nodded in understanding. "I miss my friends, too. I miss being around Alyssa every day and getting to talk to her whenever I want." She laughed before adding, "I miss building forts with Mason and dreaming up adventures with Nick." _I miss my mom. I miss Seattle. I miss the fact that the only pain I ever really felt was feeling like my parents didn't care about me._ That pain was minor compared to the pain she felt now. Some days she wished she could go back to those days simply because she knew how to deal with that pain. It was the current pains that she had no idea how to handle. "I'm glad you all were able to come here to visit again." Giving into a sigh, she admitted for the first time, "When you guys are around, I feel like my family is almost whole again."

"Oh, honey," Meredith said, pulling the teenager in for a hug. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Alex replied, pulling back. "I'm fine. I have a great dad, I like living in Hawaii, I've made good friends here, and school is great." She shook her head. "I just… it's been a tough year; a lot of changes."

"And you want things to go back to how they used to be."

Alex looked up at the sound of her best friend's voice. Alyssa was standing there, just on the edge of the clearing, with Mr. Sullivan and Sam. Before she could reply, Sam started complaining that he really needed to use the bathroom. Excusing himself and his son, Mr. Sullivan led his son into the jungle, their flashlight weaving through the trees.

Giving her friend a slight smile, Alex nodded. "Yeah." She shrugged. "I love my Dad and I love living with him but sometimes I wish everything was how it was before I came here in May."

Alyssa understood what Alex didn't say. "You wish your mom was still in your life."

"I wish _you_ and _Brian_ were still in my life on a daily basis," Alex countered, "but yeah. Even though –" She was interrupted by the sound of her dad's voice calling her name. It was coming from somewhere in the jungle.

"Alex! Meredith!"

"We're over here, Steve," Meredith said, moving her flashlight around to signal him of their location. When he stepped into the clearing, she asked, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Steve replied, noting the brief pained expression on his daughter's face before she plastered on a smile. "Charles is getting the boys situated and Mason's asking for you." Shining his flashlight further into the jungle, he added, "I think once Jason and Sam get back everyone's planning on calling it a night."

"Alright," Meredith said, standing up and smiling at the two teenage girls. "Let's head back and the three of us can finish talking tomorrow. Sound like a plan?"

* * *

"Everything okay?" Steve asked as he zipped up the tent he was sharing with his daughter. Earlier, the three teenagers had insisted that they should be able to sleep in one tent together with their argument being that they were old enough, their parents would be close by if anything happened, and they always stayed up later than the younger kids. They should have known it was futile: there was absolutely no way that their parents were going to allow three teenagers to have a co-ed sleepover, regardless of any of the other factors. When they had found out that they would each be sleeping in a tent with their respective family members, none of them had been too happy about the situation but, clearly, as the day had worn on, the kids had gotten over it.

"Yeah," Alex answered, rearranging her pillow under her head.

Sliding into his Navy-issued sleeping bag, Steve commented, "Josh told me he asked you to the dance."

"Yeah," Alex repeated, curling up on her side and not offering anything else on the topic.

Turning on his side, he faced her; the small flashlight he still had on gave him ample light with which to see her. "I'm assuming you said you would go with him." When she didn't answer him, he said, "I'm going to ask you the same thing I asked him: what are your intentions for the night of the dance?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "It's a dance, Dad. I intend on dancing."

"Don't be a smartass," he instructed. "You know perfectly well what I'm asking."

"No, actually I don't," Alex argued, giving into a yawn before continuing, "You asked me a question and I answered it."

"Fine," Steve said. It was too late and just not worth it to argue with her. "Do you plan on kissing Josh?"

"I'm not talking to you about this."

"Why not?"

Alex rolled her eyes again and let out an annoyed sigh. "Because you're my Dad, that's why. Did you tell your parents when you planned on kissing someone?"

Steve didn't answer her, catching a flicker of something in her eyes. As much as he didn't like it, he now understood some of what he had witnessed earlier today. It now made sense. His daughter's face, cheeks light pink with a faint blush, and Josh's grin were the result of something more than just him asking her to the dance and her accepting the offer. "You two have already kissed, haven't you?"

With a sigh, Alex rolled over to face the back of the tent. "Good night, Dad."

She lay there, pretending to be asleep, for a long time until the burning sensation often associated with her dad watching her vanished. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard him start to lightly snore. Still, she laid there, eyes open and staring at the walls of the tent, her mind full of wishes that would never come true. It wasn't just because he was her dad; that wasn't the whole reason she wouldn't answer his questions about her and Josh. Sure, she had Catherine and Kono and Mrs. Boyer to talk to about it if she wanted to but none of them made up for the fact that her mom wasn't around; what she wanted more than anything was to be able to talk to her mom about her first real kiss and, for that matter, the second one that had occurred earlier that day.

She missed her mom so much that it physically hurt sometimes. What she wanted was to find her mom and hug her and tell her that she had made a mistake. She shouldn't have picked her dad over her mom. She should have insisted on keeping both of them in her life because, as great as her dad was, she needed both of her parents to help her navigate through the rough waters of adolescence. She needed to find her mom and maybe, once she succeeded in doing that, the restlessness and uneasiness she felt in her soul would calm down and she could go back to feeling whole again.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: I had a ton of views for the last chapter but only 4 reviews and one pm. Please let me know your thoughts on the story. It really does help with the writing process. Thank you in advance! **

* * *

"What the hell is all of this?" Steve asked, taking in the site of the computer screen hanging above the Smart table. On it was a photo of Cindy, along with a variety of file folders and other documents. Fuming at the fact that his daughter had, once again, lied to him about where she was going to be – thank goodness for being able to track her using the GPS in her watch – he didn't even try to take in the specifics of everything on the screen. Her cell phone was resting on the tabletop and, in the USB port, a thumb drive, just like she had seen the team do on multiple occasions.

"Um," Alex said, taking in the sight of not only her dad but also the four other members of the Five-0 team. She knew there was no way of weaseling out of this one but, to hell with it, she was going to try anyway. "I plead the fifth."

"The fif – the fifth?" Steve asked, his tone expressing just how upset he was with her. "You don't get to plead the fifth."

"Actually I do," Alex retorted.

"Really?" Steve asked, more than happy to argue with his daughter because, well, he was just that pissed off at her. "Who says?"

Squaring her body off against his – to everyone in the room it was like watching Steve argue with himself – she answered, "Oh, you know, a little document called THE CONSTITUTION!"

Steve held up a finger. "Don't, Alex, don't. I don't give a damn about the U.S. Constitution because as MY daughter you only get to live by MY constitution which does NOT grant you Fifth Amendment rights."

"Yeah, well –" Alex's argument was cut short by the sound of her phone ringing on the table. Ignoring her dad and everyone else in the room for that matter, she put the caller on speed dial, completely changing gears in an instant. "Hey, Jeff."

"Hey, Kid," the man's voice came over the phone.

"Did any of those check out?" Steve, who for once in his life was absolutely speechless, found himself unable to do anything but watch and listen to her. He had never seen his daughter in this "all-business" mode before; she was so… so McGarrett…so _him._

"No," this Jeff person answered. "I'm sorry they didn't." When the girl didn't respond, he continued, "I think it's time you put an end to this."

"How about –"

"No, Alexandra," Jeff interrupted her. "It's over, Kid. You did good."

"But –"

"I checked every name you gave me," Jeff interrupted again. "It's –"

Alex looked at Steve, giving him a strange look, before resting her palms on the table and looking down at the floor. Interrupting the man on the phone, she said calmly and quietly, "But we didn't run every name, Jeff."

"What do you mean?" he asked her. "I ran every single last name on the list you gave me. Some of them twice." Hell, he had even run some that she hadn't thought of.

"I didn't give you one." Staring up at her dad, she couldn't believe she had been so stupid. How had she not included that name on the list? "I didn't give you mine. I didn't give you McGarrett."

A loud sigh could be heard over the phone. Then, after a half minute of silence, Jeff's voice came back on the line. "Okay, I'll run it but it might take awhile. And, after this, you have to stop. After I run this last name, you need to walk away from this. I'm sure your dad would agree with me. Okay?"

"Yeah," Alex said quietly, glancing at her father. She was going to be grounded for the rest of her life but she wasn't sure she could just walk away either. "Hey, Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'll call you back later."

When the line finally disconnected, everyone's eyes were on her and it was Steve, appropriately, to speak first. "Who the hell was that?"

"Jeff," Alex replied, staring down at the Smart table.

Steve expelled a frustrated breath. "Yeah, I got that part, Alex. Who is he?"

Alex shrugged, her eyes focused on the picture of her mom. "One of mom's old boyfriends. He was the only one who ever paid attention to me. He was nice." Giving into a little smile, she continued, "I actually wanted Mom to marry him."

"What names did you give him?" Steve asked, stepping forward to look at the Smart table. When his daughter got rid of everything on the screen with a simple sweep of her hand, he sent her _the_ look and said just one word: "Alex."

"I really can't plead the fifth?" One look from her dad and she was resolved to face her fate. Taking a deep breath, she stood up straight and started telling her story. "The picture of Mom that Boris had on his cell phone," she started, touching her finger on a photo icon on the desktop and enlarging it to reveal the picture of Cindy. "I didn't remember ever seeing that photo online and I recognized it from being taken outside this little coffee shop in Seattle – you know the one." She had always kept tabs on her mom – every newspaper or online article; every radio or TV interview – and, even after her mother relinquished her rights, she had still googled her name fairly regularly. Despite all of the hurt her mom had caused her, she was still her mom and how could you hate the woman who gave you life? She couldn't, despite her best efforts, hate her mom; instead, she liked to keep tabs on how she was doing. "I couldn't sleep one night so I got on the computer and searched every online image of Mom." Looking at her dad, she added, "This one wasn't there." She looked back at the photo. "It wasn't _anywhere._ So it only made sense that Boris had acquired her picture from somewhere."

"I tried her cell phone and it was disconnected. I tried David's but it went straight to voicemail and his mailbox was full. Then I found a small mention of her in the Seattle Times; an article from almost three weeks ago." Looking at her dad, she said, "She's missing." When he didn't say anything in reply – that was a dead giveaway that her dad already knew her mom was missing – she continued, "So I called Seattle PD but they wouldn't give me any information. So I, uh," she glanced at her dad. This was the part where she would definitely be getting in trouble for, if not for everything else, too. "I – I managed to get a hold of the police report." She opened a folder labeled "IASPD" and up popped a picture of Cindy along with a copy of the handwritten missing person's report that David had filed. "And you know what's bullshit?" Not waiting for a response, she continued, "They only questioned _four_ people that know Mom _and_ the only person who is on their list of potential suspects is David." She clicked on another picture and it pulled up a typed page that annotated everything Steve had told Seattle PD over the phone. "They have this info that _you_ gave them about Boris and they haven't done a damn thing with it. They stopped looking for her after two days."

Steve just stared at his daughter for a few moments. "Were you ever going to tell me about this?"

"Were you ever going to tell me that Mom is missing?"

"Alex –"

_Yeah, that's what I thought._ Brushing him off with a slight shake of her head, she minimized the police report and clicked on a file folder labeled "F/O". Then she rested her finger on top of another image but did not open it. "I wanted to see if Boris was ever in Seattle so I tracked down some flight manifests." She opened the file, completely oblivious to the awed looks on everyone's faces, and a set of three different manifests appeared. "I couldn't find anything under his real name but I could find the alias he was using." She enlarged the first one. "He first got on a flight in Sao Paolo – I'm assuming that's where he had his face changed – headed to Rio." Throwing the next manifest onto the overhead screen, she continued, "From Rio he went to Atlanta and," she pulled up the third manifest, "then he flew here." She looked at her dad. "He's been here for three-and-a-half months." When he didn't say anything – when nobody said anything – she added, "He was never in Seattle."

When she glanced around the room, she saw that everyone's eyes were on her. It wasn't as intimidating as she thought it would be. She decided to keep talking because, after all, she had busted her butt finding this information and maybe it would all help locate her mom in the end. She minimized the manifests as she started to talk again. "So, then, I tracked down Boris' cell number and pulled up a record of his calls and you know what?" She pushed her arm forward across the table, causing the document to appear on the overhead screen. It was a record of all incoming/outgoing phone calls and messages made to the cell number she had connected to Boris. "He only communicated with _one_ person who had a Seattle telephone number," she continued, using her finger zoom in on specific number. "That person – I think it was the man that Kono shot – sent Boris only _two_ texts." She pulled up another document that listed the contents of those two text messages, along with a time and date stamp next to each. The first was a simple text – "Target located" – and the second, although not showing the exact picture, showed that a media file had been sent and, with it, the words "She'll be there tomorrow." Tapping the screen with her finger, Alex said, "Look at the date of that picture text. Mom flew here the next day."

She spared a glance around the room. Every single pair of adults eyes were locked on the screen. If she didn't know any better, she would say they were all in shock. Even her dad looked somewhat impressed; angry, but impressed. "Mom went missing while Boris and the dead guy were in Hawaii so that got to me thinking that maybe," she opened a file labeled "CIA" and a picture of a handwritten list of names – Steve recognized the handwriting as that of his daughter's – alongside a recent copy of Cindy's bank account. On it, an amount - $250,000 – was highlighted. "Maybe she decided to get away and start over. Maybe she decided that being with David wasn't worth it anymore." Staring down at the Smart table, she said slowly, "Maybe two-hundred and fifty K's is all a person needs to make a new life." When nobody said anything, she started closing out all of the windows.

"How," Steve started, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared down at his daughter. "How the hell did you get access to most of this?" Police reports – _open_ police reports – were not accessible to the public. Flight manifests were not searchable by the public. Cell phone records and confidential bank account statements were not accessible to the public. His office had unlimited access to those types of things but a fourteen-year-old girl did not. Not legally at least.

Alex expelled a breath. "Please don't make me answer that question."

"My office," Steve replied, pointing in the direction of his office. "Now!"

"Dad," Alex protested, her tone bordering on whiny.

"Now, Alex!"

"You're not gonna like my answer."

"No, shit, Alex," Steve said, shaking his head reprovingly. "My office. NOW!" When he saw her reach for the cell phone, he said, "Leave that here."

"But –"

"Alexandra McGarrett."

"Okay, okay," Alex said, stepping away from the Smart table. "I'm going."

Once his daughter was seated in his office, Steve looked around the room. "See if you can figure out how many federal offenses my daughter is facing for..." he shook his head as he swiped his hand over the Smart table. "For all of this."

* * *

"The Federal Aviation Administration!" Steve yelled, pacing behind his desk. "Seattle PD! Bank of America! Cell phone providers!" He stopped pacing and, with arms crossed in front of his chest, sternly looked down at his seated daughter. "Do you have any idea how serious –"

"Steve." Thankful for the interruption – her dad had been yelling at her for exactly four minutes and twenty-three seconds – she knew because she had kept an eye on the digital readout on her runner's watch – Alex looked up at the sound of Chin's voice. "We –"

Still looking at his daughter, Steve said, "Yeah. On my way." When Chin stepped back out of the office, he stood there for several long minutes. As pissed off as he was – as disappointed in her as he was – even he couldn't deny the fact that his kid was smart and determined; he was actually pretty impressed with her investigation skills. But, of course, he could not let her know that. She could get in serious trouble for her actions and he wasn't sure he would be able to protect her from the repercussions. With a final 'look' in her direction, he told her, "You'll be lucky if you don't end up in prison for this." When his daughter didn't say anything – she hadn't said anything when he had asked her about how she had gained access to all of the information and, most surprisingly, she hadn't yelled back , interrupted him or argued with him when he accused her of hacking; instead, she had just sat there, taking every word he yelled at her – he added, "Stay here and don't move an inch."

* * *

"Boss," Kono said, as he approached the Smart table. "We found something that you really need to see."

"First," Steve said, his voice taking on a pained tone. "Please just tell me if I should be expecting a visit from the feds." His kid had gained electronic access to numerous organizations to gain access to private information. She had gained access to _secure_ government websites. His _fourteen-year-old_ was a hacker.

"Actually," Kono answered, feeling a combination of awe, surprise, and concern at Alex's actions, "I don't think the feds will come looking for her at all." She was actually pretty impressed with, not only Alex's dedication and hard work, but also her technical knowledge. Seeing the confused look on Steve's face, she explained, "Although the IP address used to access everything is different, our network is what was used to –"

"Our network?" Steve asked. How the hell had she done that? "She used our network?"

Kono nodded. "Yeah, but like I said, the IP addresses don't match. It's like she remotely accessed our system from a different computer and –"

"So she still had to hack into our system?"

"Well, yes," Kono answered. Glancing towards Steve's office, she then said, "Unless…"

"Unless what, Kono?"

In those days immediately after the situation at the smoothie shop with Boris, Alex had used Steve's laptop frequently. She ran a few queries on the computer. It was just as she expected. "Smart kid," she muttered. Getting an exasperated look from Steve, she said, "If the feds are at all concerned about any of this, they will just think it was one of our investigations."

Steve's eyes went wide. "What?"

Kono actually felt bad for Alex. Alex was too smart for her own good and, as a result, she would probably be grounded for the rest of her life. Or subjected to scrubbing bathroom floors with a toothbrush. "Your credentials are linked to… well, to everything."

Steve shook his head and glanced back in the direction of his office. With an exaggerated sigh, he took a step in the direction of his office. She hadn't hacked into a government system but she had hacked into his secure account; his kid was definitely going to be grounded, probably for the entire school semester if not for the rest of her life.

"There's something else," Danny said, getting Steve's attention.

Steve's eyes went wide when he saw what Kono pulled up on the screen. "Alex!" he shouted, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Get your ass out here now!"

"I don't care what you threaten me with," Alex's voice rang out as she stepped out of his office. "I'm not telling you…" she trailed off, stopping in place, when she saw what was on the screen. With a defeated slump of her shoulders, she bent over and rested her hands on her knees. She knew that she had included that picture in the file pertaining to her mom but seeing it again brought back everything she had felt when she had first held the item in her hand. It brought back the fear, the nausea, and the ache deep inside that told her, despite everything she had discovered, that something was wrong.

"When did you get this?" Steve's question was directed at his daughter but his eyes were still focused on the picture of the personal check, made payable to Alex in the amount of $100,000 and signed by Cindy. In the memo space, Cindy had written: Be safe, be happy, be loved.

"A couple days before Christmas." With a shrug, she added, "It's what reminded of that cell phone picture." _It's what started all of this._

"Your mother sent you a check for…" Steve trailed off. He still couldn't believe the amount of money that Cindy had just freely signed over to their fourteen-year-old. "And you didn't tell me."

It wasn't a question so she didn't reply to him. Instead, her eyes were focused on the picture of the envelope that the check had been mailed to her in. The writing was her mom's, of that there was no doubt, but something wasn't right. She'd been trying to figure it out but hadn't been able to put her finger on what it was. Then, suddenly, it clicked. "It wasn't mailed from Seattle." That's what it was – the postmark on the front of the envelope was from somewhere else. She used her fingers to zoom in on the stamp; Praha. "Prague?" Confusion on her face, she asked to no one in particular, "Why is Mom in Prague?"

As if his daughter hadn't spoken at all, Steve asked, "How did you hack into our system?"

Alex shrugged distractedly; her mind was still trying to make sense of the origin of the envelope.

"Alexandra!" Steve said, slamming his hand down on the Smart table to get her attention. "I am going to find out one way or another." When she looked at him, he asked, "Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?"

"I was in the conference room and used your laptop to access the wireless."

"That gives you access to the internet," Steve stated, glaring at his daughter. "NOT to secure websites or –"

"I didn't hack."

"What you did was pretend to be me," Steve told her.

"Okay," Alex said distractedly as her mind was trying to piece together everything. "If you know that already then why are you asking me how I accessed those sites?"

Steve expelled a frustrated breath. Sometimes he really felt like strangling his kid. "Dammit, Alex." He put a hand on her chin and, making sure it wasn't too rough, forced her to look at him. "How the hell did you login as me?" Their computer system was similar to the one used by the military and required lengthy, nonsensical passwords. There was no way in hell she had just randomly guessed his password.

Alex sighed. "I installed a keystroke recorder."

"A key – a keystroke recorder?" He dropped his hand and just stared at his daughter.

She looked at him as if he were stupid. "Yeah, it's a type of software that –"

"I know what it is, Alex," Steve said, expelling another frustrated breath. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Alex shrugged. "Don't worry, I made sure I deleted the information with their passwords," she nodded towards the rest of the taskforce, "without looking at them. So yours is the only password I know."

Steve shook his head. Unbelievable. "Seriously, Alex, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea –"

"I don't care!" Alex screamed, anger boiling to the surface. "Mom is missing! You should have told me!"

"No, Alex," Steve said, forcing himself to stay calm. Reacting to her anger with screams of his own would only add fuel to the fire and this was something that was getting ready to explode in epic proportions. "I did not have to tell you."

"She is _my_ Mom! You should have told me!"

"No," Steve repeated, shaking his head. "I do not have to justify my actions to you. Regardless of what you think, only _I_ know what is best for you."

"None of this makes sense!" Alex screamed, sliding her hand across the Smart table so that her mom's picture once again appeared on the overhead screen. "Boris was stalking her and then she came back saying she wanted me back. Now she's missing and money is gone from her account. She sent me a check postmarked from Prague!" Looking at her dad, she asked, "Why is she in Prague?"

"I don't know, Alex," Steve said. It was becoming more and more of a struggle to keep calm. What his daughter had done was wrong and she would be grounded for an eternity. "And it doesn't matter. It's –"

"She is my mom!" Alex screamed, her voice remarkably louder than it had been before. "It matters to me!" Breathing heavily, she looked up at her mom's picture. "I have to find her."

His daughter was hurting, that was obvious to everyone in the room, but he was too angry to comfort her. Sometimes, tough love was the only thing that would work in certain situations. This was one of those times; he was not going to let her pain interfere with his teaching her a lesson on right versus wrong. "This is NOT how you go about doing that. You wanting to know where she is and why she disappeared does not give you the right to hack into my account and access secure websites. It does not –"

"Yeah, well," Alex interrupted. "You shouldn't be one to judge 'cuz you do it all the time."

"What?"

"Every day you live by the principle that 'the ends justifies the means'," Alex said pointedly.

"Alex." Steve's tone was a warning that she was crossing the line.

"It's true," Alex stated, continuing to throw respect right out of the window. "You get to do whatever the heck you want as long as it ends in you catching your suspect. So don't lecture me on ethics or –"

"Okay," Steve said, having heard more than enough. "That's enough." He grabbed her upper arm and started dragging her down the hallway. "Shut your mouth. Do you understand me?" When she started to try to wriggle from him, he tightened his hold on her arm and continued pulling her beside him as he headed towards the main doors of Headquarters. He was completely fed up with her and, if he didn't rid himself of her soon, he hated to think what he might find himself doing. He was going to teach her a lesson; make her face the reality of what could happen if the right people found out what she had done.

"No!" Alex yelled, fighting him and trying to pull away despite the pain that it was causing in her arm. "If you get away with –" Her shouts were stifled when he placed his free hand over her mouth and, picking her up, carried her under his arm and out of headquarters. She was still squirming, trying to get free of his arms, as he carried her down the stairs.

Completely fed up with his out-of-control teenager, he felt forced to do nothing else but carry her to the destination he had in mind. Thank goodness it was the weekend and still early in the morning; no one else apart from his team was around, saving him from embarrassment and having to answer a lot of questions. He carried her down the stairs, vaguely aware that there were footsteps behind him; his team, or some of them, he assumed. He reached the main floor and then continued one more level down. Reaching his destination, he set her feet back down on the floor and, gripping her arm, he used his free hand to pull the keys out of his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Alex asked him. "Where are we?"

Unlocking the door, he said, "What you did was wrong." He pushed open the door and dragged her into the barely lit room. "If certain people find out what you did, you could be facing some serious punishment." He led her over to the chair in the middle of the room and pushed her down onto it. "Now, you will sit here and think about what you did." Shaking his head, he continued, "I love you, Alex, but right now I need to calm down."

As he walked towards the door of the holding cell, she asked, "How can you punish me for doing something that you do every day? Actually, what you do every day is worse; I don't shoot at people or hang them off of buildings or –"

Wincing at her words, he reached the door and turned around. "It's my job and you are a fourteen-year-old girl who –"

"Then go do your job then!" Alex shouted, getting up from the chair and looking at him with fire in her eyes. "And find my mom!"

With a final, heartbroken look at her, he stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. Expelling a breath, he looked up to see Danny and Chin standing there looking at him.

"If you're both here to question my parenting techniques then –"

"That's not it, brah," Chin said, catching the fleeting wounded look in Steve's eyes.

"She's your kid, Steve," Danny said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Only you have a say in how she's punished."

"I'm not going to leave her here all day," Steve stated. It sounded more like he was reminding himself of that instead of simply telling them. "I just…" he trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

"Are you okay?" Chin's question caught Steve by surprise.

"That's why we're here," Danny said. "To check on you."

Steve sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine." He leaned back against the wall that faced the door to the holding cell, crossing his arms in front of him. "It's just…" He sighed as he stared at the door. "Cindy has hurt her so much and yet Alex won't let her go. It's like she's begging to get hurt again." He laid his head back against the wall. "Someone please explain to me why my love isn't enough for her."

"Steve –" Chin was interrupted by Steve pulling a cell phone – his daughter's cell phone – out of his pocket. Holding up a finger, Steve headed down the hallway in the direction of the stairwell.

* * *

"Steve McGarrett," Steve said into the phone as he raced up the stairwell.

"Thank God," the man on the other end replied. "This is Jeff Andrews. I'm so glad you answered your daughter's phone."

"Listen, Jeff," Steve said. "I know we've never met but I just want to let you know that I do not appreciate you helping my daughter break the law. You should have –"

"Alex said you knew. She said you were helping her with everything else," Jeff interrupted. "Jesus, Steve, I'm sorry." To Steve, it sounded like a legitimate apology. A lot of noise was suddenly heard in the background. When it died down, Jeff added, "Your kid never lied to me before." Steve heard a cacophony of car horns in the background and then Jeff came back on the line, sounding slightly out of breath. "I'm sorry but I have to make this short because I'm… well, I'm on my way to the airport to come to Oahu."

"What?"

"I found something and, well, I think you need to see it before…" he trailed off. "Hell, some things you just can't tell a kid over the phone."

Steve's breath caught in his throat. "Is it –"

"I don't know," Jeff admitted. In the background, Steve could hear an announcement regarding departing flights. "My flight arrives around seven. If you text me your cell number, I won't bother letting Alexandra know I'm in town until you and I meet."

* * *

He had sent his team home three hours ago, telling them he would see them tomorrow unless they caught a case. Since then he hadn't moved from the Smart Table, opening and re-opening every one of the files found on Alex's thumb drive. True to her character, everything was organized according to subject matter, even though the names of each folder made absolutely no sense to him whatsoever. He had studied the Seattle PD case report and, sure enough, his daughter had been right about it being a bullshit case. It seemed to him that the investigative skills at the department were lacking as they had, like Alex said, stopped searching for Cindy within a matter of days after David had reported her missing. There was also no follow-up to what Steve had reported to them. He had picked up the phone, speaking to the same detective as before, and had inquired as to the status of the case and he was told that Cindy had simply vanished. They had checked with local hospitals for any Jane Does, looked for her on outbound flights, attempted to track her cell phone; nothing. She had, simply, vanished without a trace.

And, while Steve had wanted to do nothing more than tell the very confident detective that his teenager had better investigative skills than the entire SPD missing persons department, he knew he couldn't. Alex had, at least, had the brains to assume that Cindy might be using an alias. Instead, he had simply thanked the young detective and asked to be notified if they found anything or if Cindy turned up. He doubted she would; everything Alex had found pointed to the theory that Cindy had left on her own volition.

Of course, that didn't explain why she had sent their daughter a check that was worth a shit load of money. Or why, on the memo line, she had told their daughter to "be safe". Like his daughter he was curious about the Prague postmark. If Cindy had gone through the trouble of using an alias to escape her life, then why would she send a check to Alex from her current location? It would have made more sense for Cindy to just deposit the money directly into Alex's bank account. Which reminded him: he needed to move that money into a new account; Cindy did not need access to Alex's funds. The longer he had looked at the picture of the envelope – did Alex still have the actual envelope? – the more something bothered him about it. Yes, it certainly was Cindy's handwriting but his gut told him something was amiss. He had called in a favor to Charlie Fong, asking if, first thing tomorrow morning, he could compare two writing samples. That gave him time to make a copy of the signature block from when Cindy had relinquished her rights and then hand deliver it to Charlie in the morning.

Looking at his watch, he abandoned the computer and, after locking the main door of HQ, headed downstairs. Reaching the holding cell, he put his hand on the doorknob and expelled a breath. As ready as he would ever be to deal with his daughter, he opened the door. She was no longer sitting where he had left her; his eyes had to adjust to the dim light to spot her in the far back corner of the room. When she didn't acknowledge his presence, he walked across the room and sat down next to her on the floor. Her arms were tucked inside her t-shirt and she was shivering, staring at something on the floor. Usually, when leaving a suspect in here for long periods of time, they jacked the heat up to high; making them as miserable as possible would help get information out of them. When the room was not being used – or if a suspect was only expected to be in there for a short amount of time – it was kept considerably cooler than elsewhere in the building but he had never felt like it was cold enough to induce a shiver in anyone. Then again, he never spent more than half an hour at a time in here. He removed his button up shirt, leaving him in just his blue t-shirt, and wrapped it around his daughter's shoulders. It was only then that she acknowledged him with a mere glance while she pulled her arms first through one shirt then the one he had given her.

He studied her for several long moments and then glanced at the floor to see what had been capturing her attention. It was the envelope, postmarked from Prague and opened along the left side, a habit she had acquired from him. He tentatively reached for it and, when she didn't protest by pushing his hand away, he picked it up. It felt slightly powdery and, after angling it so the light hit it better, he saw that there were several faintly drawn circles on different parts of the envelope. Flipping it over, he saw a faint fingerprint marking. He looked at his daughter in awe. Had she really done what he thought she had? "Did you…" he stopped in mid-question when his daughter diverted her eyes from his to focus on the wall across from them. With a sigh, he set the envelope back down on the floor.

"You know I love you, right?" It just about killed him when she wouldn't answer him – she wouldn't even look at him – and he hoped her silence wasn't a sign that she had gone back to doubting his love for her. "That's why I did this. That's why I made you sit here for three hours. It's because I love you and you need to learn that what you did was wrong and that there are serious consequences to your actions."

"I never said that it wasn't wrong for me to do what I did."

He sighed. "If you knew it was wrong then why did you do it? You're better than this, Alex." When she didn't answer him, he tried another approach. "What would Grandpa say? Didn't he always tell you that 'no matter how painful it is, you always have to do the right thing'?"

"Grandpa's not here anymore, Dad."

That was definitely not what he had been expecting to hear from her. "I'm very well aware of that fact." He rested his arms on his knees and then rested his chin on his folded arms. "This isn't like you, Alex. So explain it to me. Explain to me why you –"

"Mom's missing."

"I know that, Alex, but it's not –"

"And if you were doing your job you would have known that SPD stopped looking for her."

Her comment stung, striking him in the heart. "I have one job, Alex," he said, with one finger raised in the air. _"One_ job," he repeated. "And keeping track of your mother's whereabouts is not it." Choking back the emotions that were threatening to rise to the surface, he continued, "My job is to be your dad and, with that, is the responsibility to do my best to keep you from getting hurt." When she didn't say anything, he nudged her with his arm until she looked at him. "Your mom has hurt you so many times that I've lost count. Why do you keep setting yourself up to get hurt by her?"

She took a minute to reply. When she had first started this investigation, she hadn't been sure why she was so determined to find answers. After everything her mom had done to her, after everything she had done in attempt to keep her away from her dad, no one would blame her for not caring about her mom. It wasn't that she miraculously had forgotten about the pain her mom had caused but something inside of her was pushing her to find out what happened to her mom. It wasn't until a little bit ago, when she was sitting in this room with nothing else to do but think and shiver, that she finally discovered what that force was that was propelling her forward to find answers. She locked eyes with her dad. "I don't know how to live if she's not hurting me."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I have one line in here that is my favorite. Kudos to anyone who can guess what it is ;) **

**As always, R and R. Mahalo!  
**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Thank you so much for the incredible reviews on the last chapter. It's great to receive a lot of feedback every now and then just to help keep me motivated and to ensure that _someone_ is still enjoying this story.**

**First, for everyone who guessed: my favorite line was "I don't know how to live if she's not hurting me." I had not planned on that line at all until 4 am on the morning that chapter was posted when I woke up from a dead sleep with that line echoing in my head. Good to know that it resonated with so many people the way it did me.**

**As a personal thank you:**

**JMReagan – Those were definitely my top 3 favorite lines from the story, too. Glad you found them just as entertaining as I did. Thanks for your feedback!**

**Francis2 – Thank you. You've been a faithful reader from day 1; glad to know you are still reading!**

**FicreaderT – Thank you very much. I love how you described my plot line as a plot afghan!**

**JAJ101 – Thank you! I hope this update comes soon enough for you.**

**Craftygirl11 – Yes, the stuff about her mom is exactly what Alex wanted to tell Catherine. Glad you understand why she chose not to tell her. Alex figured out her mom was missing a few days before Christmas (in Ch 21 I wrote about how Steve saw Alex sitting in the conference room, textbooks and laptop open in front of her and she was furiously typing away. Steve thought she was doing her homework but… well, Alex did a good job of making him think that. ;)**

**Allie – Thank you! Your wish is my command As you will see, Alex's punishment does encompass the time of the dance.**

**Sunny irish – Yes, she certainly has pretty incredible investigative skills. Law enforcement or naval intelligence… I could see both as possibilities in her future. Thanks as always for your feedback!**

**Lynnrxgal – Yes! Spot on with my favorite line! Why was it your favorite?**

**Cathyfromohio – Yes, Alex is just like her father! As we all know, Steve has some daddy issues of his own (LOL) but I think those issues have made him become an incredible father to Alex. All he wants is her safe and healthy and he loves her tremendously, even when she's driving him crazy! I'm glad I am able to portray that in my writing. Thanks!**

**Tessab – Wow! I thought I had lost you as a reader! Welcome back and I can't believe you reread the entire story! Your favorite line was my second favorite line! You definitely understand that daddy Steve is conflicted at times, not knowing whether to comfort his daughter or scold her. Raising a child is the hardest task in the world but I think Steve is doing a pretty good job in this story. As you will see in this chapter, she definitely ends up grounded. **

**NYR88 – It's okay! I know it's not always easy to find the time to review. No hard feelings! Thank you so much for commenting on the last chapter. Alex definitely is a McGarrett who, like you said, has her dad and grandfather's investigative skills. I think Steve realized that his daughter was acting very much like him when she did everything she did but he wants better for her so he had to rely on punishing her. Thanks again for reading!**

**HBSpud – Thanks! Yes, Alex definitely is exhibiting the signs of emotional issues as the result of the neglect and emotional abuse she received from her mother. It's tough but she's a strong kid and with her dad's help she will work through it. **

**loveRandB – lol, I hadn't planned on that answer either! Thanks again for reviewing!**

**Okay, even though I bounced part of this off of 2 readers (both of whom said to leave it as is) I'm still VERY nervous about posting it. Does Alex's explanation for her comment make sense? Does it provide enough insight into her mind and heart?  
**

* * *

"I don't know how to live if she's not hurting me."

Her comment provided a glimpse into the deepest recesses of her soul. The pain her comment caused him was worse than what he had felt when he was being stabbed by Victor Hesse. It was worse than getting shot or punched in the face. It was worse than broken ribs, a broken nose, or a broken arm. It was worse than getting tortured. And that sound in his head? That was the sound of his heart shattering into a million pieces. His daughter blinked, chasing away any sign of her sorrow. Steve swallowed the lump in his throat and, when he spoke, he found it difficult, but not impossible, to keep his voice steady and strong. "Can you explain what you mean by that?"

It took her a few long moments to respond and, when she did, her voice came across as calm, hollow. "I'm not sure I can."

"Try," Steve said, encouraging her gently. "Please?"

Her eyes left his and focused on the opposite wall as if the words she was searching for could be found written there. "It's like when you're running and everything is going well and then suddenly all of your oxygen is cut off because you swallow a bee or something and you just can't run anymore." That didn't make sense, she knew that. It was rather stupid actually. She shook her head, searching for clarity. "For as long as I can remember mom hasn't been very nice to me; I'm not sure I even remember a time when she was nice. After awhile you get used to it. You get used to being wounded all the time and you learn how to deal with it. Being hurt became as natural as breathing." She stopped as she considered her words, trying to have it all make sense to someone other than herself. Not that it even made complete sense to her. She glanced up at him briefly. "I am who I am because of being hurt all the time." Her eyes drifted from his again. "It's why I push myself so hard and why I'm so driven; I guess I always felt like I had to prove myself to Mom. It's why I always choose to deal with stuff by myself because I had to learn how to deal with stuff by myself." She stole another look at her dad, somehow managing to lock eyes with his as she said, "It's why I don't trust people easily and why very few people know the _real_ me. It's why I doubt more than I believe."

Thinking she was finished, Steve said, "Alex, it's –"

"Being hurt all the time made me who I am, Dad," Alex said, interrupting him. "It's why I don't let anything stand in my way and it's why I'm going to be successful regardless of what anyone says. It's why I take risks and why I…" she trailed off, shaking her head again. "Everything I am is because of being hurt by her so often. It's as natural as breathing," she repeated. "It _was_ breathing for me." Looking up at him once more, she asked, "If she doesn't hurt me anymore then I can't breathe anymore. If I can't breathe then I..." She stopped because a lump formed in her throat. She swallowed it; blinking made the tears vanish from her eyes. "If I can't breathe, then I'm not me anymore."

Steve didn't – couldn't – respond for several minutes. He hated that his daughter was feeling the way she was – it literally hurt him to learn how lost and confused she felt – but, personally, he felt that she just needed to look at things with a different perspective. There was no question that she had developed into the fourteen-year-old sitting next to him as a result of her life experiences; the pain that her mother and he had caused her over the last ten years contributed to the young woman she had become. Yet, he truly believed that she had become who she was – beautiful, intelligent, strong-willed, independent, and hard-headed at times, cautious, guarded, driven, compassionate, caring and so much more – not _because of_ but _despite_ being hurt for so long. He studied her profile; her long eyelashes were damp with tears as she blinked. He carefully considered his words. He had made the mistake in the past of telling her how she should feel; he was not stupid enough to make that mistake again. His daughter's voice bought him some more time.

"Dad, how much longer do I have to sit here?" She asked him as she removed her arms from around her knees and stretching her legs out in front of her. "Because I _really_ have to pee. I mean, I guess if you have a funnel and a bottle I could..."

He couldn't help it; he laughed. It was such an Alex comment and, for just a moment, it brought a little levity to the seriousness of their conversation. He shook his head. "No. No need for a funnel." He stood up and, offering her his hand, he said, "You can use the bathroom in Headquarters then I'll order us lunch and then we _will_ continue talking about what happened this morning. Deal?"

She knew their "talk" would consist mostly of him laying out his punishment for her and maybe even some more yelling, but she knew she had to face the fire eventually. Besides, it wasn't like she could just continue to hold her bladder; developing another urinary tract infection would only lead to yet _another_ lecture from her dad. Plus, she was starting to get really hungry, too. Taking her dad's hand, she said, "Deal."

* * *

"So," Steve said after swallowing a bite of shrimp. Yeah, he had gone ahead and ordered his daughter's favorite food item. Call him a sucker or a softie but he knew that soon he would be dishing out her punishment and, well, he wanted her to have at least one moment of happiness before he broke her heart by telling her just how much she would be missing out on for the rest of the school year. "What's with the folder names?" Although he normally didn't allow it, they were eating as they stood at the Smart Table; he had several questions that he needed her to answer.

"What about them?"

Setting his fork down, Steve pulled up the first folder. "IASPD?"

"Incompetent Assholes of Seattle PD," she answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

"Watch your mouth," Steve reprimanded, sending her a look.

"You asked," Alex reminded him. Shrugging, she added, "Besides, it's an apt description of them, don't ya think?"

Steve wasn't even going to address that with her. "Just please watch your language, okay?" Pulling up the next folder – the one labeled 'F/O' – he asked, "This one?"

"Face Off," Alex answered, popping a shrimp into her mouth. Her mouth full, she continued, "You know, like the movie, the one with John Travolta and Nicholas Cage." Chewing, she shrugged. "Seemed like an appropriate title for that folder since Boris did get a new face."

"Okay," Steve said, taking a sip of his drink. "And this one?" He pulled up the one that contained the list of names and the pictures of the check and envelope.

Alex stopped in place, her hand halfway to her mouth. "CIA?" She looked at him like he was stupid. "Really? You don't know?" Setting the piece of shrimp back on her plate, she said, "Cynthia Irene Aberdeen. Mom's initials."

Okay, maybe he _was_ stupid for not connecting a folder whose subject matter was Cindy with her initials. Frowning at himself, he asked, "What did you do with the check?"

"It's in my room until I figure out what to do next."

"Next?" Steve asked, sensing he was not going to like what she would say. "What do you mean next?"

Alex took a deep breath before expelling it loudly. Whatever her punishment was going to be, this would make it worse. She removed the envelope from her pocket along with a second thumb drive. Joining her dad on his side of the table, she set the envelope down on the table top and inserted the thumb drive into the computer. When she opened the contents of the thumb drive, Steve was surprised to see just one file. "There were four different ones on the envelope," Alex told him, opening the file to reveal six fingerprints. Zooming in on four, she said, "And two of those were also on the check. At least they look similar. I think –"

Earlier, down in the holding cell when he had seen the envelope, his gut had told him that she had dusted for prints. Here she was proving that his assumption had been right. "You – you dusted for fingerprints?" As much as he would prefer a different career path for his daughter, there was no denying that she certainly had the makings to become a cop.

"Ground up graphite, clear tape, and a piece of computer paper," she told him, copying the fingerprint folder over so it was saved in the same place as the other folders. Looking up at him, she explained, "None of this makes sense, Dad, and my gut is telling me mom is in trouble."

"Alex, you need to –"

"I don't know how to run these prints," she interrupted. "One has to be moms' but who does the other one belong to?"

"I don't know, Alex," Steve told her, deciding that now was the time to put an end to this. He flipped off the monitor, not caring about the exasperated sigh that left his daughter's mouth when he did. "I understand that you're concerned about your Mom and I get that you are passionate about tracking her down but what you did was wrong." Gesturing down towards the Smart table, he said, "Doing all of this – accessing our network without permission; hacking into my account and using that to gain access to restricted government networks; keeping this all a secret from me; lying to me about your whereabouts this morning – all of these things are serious offenses."

"Dad –"

"You're grounded," Steve said, interrupting what would have been a futile argument on his daughter's behalf. "For the rest of the school year."

"But that's, like, five months!"

Steve nodded. "Yes it is, Alex." Holding up his hand when she started to open her mouth, he continued, "Which is a far shorter length of punishment than you would have if you ended up facing charges for this."

"Five months," Alex muttered, staring at the floor. She knew she would be grounded for her actions but never had she imagined it would be for the next half of a year. Heck, she would be fifteen by the time her punishment period ended.

"Yep," Steve said, before making her aware of another stipulation of her punishment. "And that includes Tracy's birthday party and the dance; you can no longer go to either one."

"What?" Alex asked, anger flashing in her eyes. "That's not … but you already said I could go!"

"Those things are privileges," Steve told her. "And privileges come and go based on your behavior."

"But Dad –"

Steve shook his head. "As your dad I get the final say in what you can and cannot do and I am telling you right now that, based on your actions, you have lost the right to attend either event." When his daughter started opening her mouth again, he said, "There are consequences for every action, Alex, and if you don't understand that now then… well… you're going to have five months to learn that."

* * *

"I know you love me."

It was said so quietly that he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "What?"

"Earlier you asked if I knew you love me," Alex answered, her eyes focused straight ahead through the windshield. "I know you love me."

Steve smiled. "Good." Stealing a glance at her, he saw that she still had that same look on her face; shame and guilt mixed with a little bit of acceptance. After lecturing her on the importance of taking responsibility for her actions, she had simply nodded before finishing her lunch in silence. Sure, at first she had attempted to protest against her punishment but the fact that she hadn't yelled at him was a sign that she knew he was right and had accepted her fate.

"I know you love me," she repeated, glancing at him. "And as much as I don't enjoy how you choose to punish me, I know that you do it because you love me."

"Good," Steve said again. "Everything I do is because I love you."

"I know," she replied before giving into a sigh. "It's just –" She gave into a shrug. "You're the only one who ever really disciplined me." Shifting in the seat, she propped her head on her hand. "Mom's idea of punishing me was to yell at me – she was always good at yelling – and she never really held me accountable for anything. Since I spent every day for two years with her and didn't see you at all, I'm still getting used to being grounded and punished by you."

"I want you to grow up to be a responsible adult," Steve replied, reaching over and tapping her on the knee so she would look at him. "One who thinks about the potential consequences _before_ you act not after the fact. I wouldn't be doing my job as your dad if I always let you get away with stuff. You have to –"

"It's not like I just act without thinking. I always think about the consequences, Dad."

Her comment made him feel slightly irritated. "So what is it, Alex? You just don't care or what?"

"Of course I care," she answered, brushing off her dad's irritation with a sigh. "You really think I look forward to scrubbing the bathroom floor with a toothbrush or losing computer and phone privileges or being grounded for five months?" She shook her head. "Of course I care, Dad." She shrugged. "Just other things are more important."

Steve sighed. She never failed in reminding him of just how much she took after him. That morning she had been correct when she said that he operated under the idea that the 'end justifies the means'; in his line of work, tracking down the suspected killer or child abductor or human trafficker or whoever was more important than the methods he used to bring them to justice. As a result, barely a day passed without the Governor reminding him that there were consequences for his actions. Now, his fourteen-year-old daughter was expressing the same train of thought that Steve himself expressed on a daily basis and, truth be told, even if he couldn't explain why, it scared the hell out of him. "About Mom –"

"She's –"

"Let me speak, Alex." His tone did not hide his annoyance; she really needed to learn to stop interrupting him. "I heard everything you said earlier. I understand what you told me about how you are feeling. I'm not going to question it because only you know what you're feeling and you're allowed to feel that way." Pulling into the driveway, he parked the car and turned to face her. "I understand that you had to develop certain coping skills in order to deal with all of the pain. I think you are very brave and strong and courageous for learning those skills because a lot of people in your situation would have just given up."

"But?" She asked, removing her seat belt and looking at him.

"But," he said, giving into a smile as he removed his own seat belt. "I think I view everything a little differently than you do and I think it might help if you try to see if my perspective makes sense to you." Seeing the questioning look in her eyes, he explained, "I think you are who you are _in spite_ of all the pain your Mom caused you not _because_ of it."

"I'm not sure I understand what you are saying," she admitted.

"Although those coping skills are good ones to have in times of difficulty," Steve explained, keeping his eyes locked with his daughters'. "Maybe you could try just living for awhile." He shrugged. "Instead of relying on those coping skills to get through each day, just… live."

"I still don't get it."

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Instead of choosing to deal with everything by yourself, challenge yourself to rely on other people for help. Challenge yourself to be more open to trusting people. Challenge yourself to allow more people to get to know the real you. Instead of trying to prove yourself to Mom or to me or to anyone, maybe try proving to yourself that you can live without your Mom hurting you all the time."

"How do I do that?"

He gave her a smile. "You take it one day at a time and you learn from it. And when you succeed it's okay to be proud of those victories."

"What if I fail?"

"That's okay, too, Sweetheart," he assured her. "Everyone fails at times but the important thing is that you learn from those failures. And," he added, "Remember that I will never stop loving you, even when you do fail."

She dropped eye contact with him but not before a flash of hurt registered in her eyes. "Mom stopped loving me."

He didn't think it was possible but his heart just shattered into even smaller pieces. Placing a finger under his daughter's chin, he lifted her face so that she was looking at him. "I can't explain your Mom to you because I don't understand it myself. I can tell you this though: I have loved you from the first moment I found out about you and I will continue loving you until the end of time. I may not always be pleased with your behavior but that does not mean my love for you lessens any. You are my daughter. You are the best thing I have ever done with my life and nothing you say or do will ever make me stop loving you."

* * *

_Military_. That was the first thought that went through Steve's mind when he spotted the man who was Jeff Andrews sitting at a table in the Floating Restaurant of the Pagoda Hotel. He only knew it was Jeff thanks to the kind hostess who pointed him out in the crowded dining area. Jeff's traditional military haircut – brown hair cropped close to his head – was accompanied by a clean shaven face and two tattoos that could be spotted peeking out from underneath the sleeves of his t-shirt. It wasn't even the physical appearance that made Steve assume Jeff was a military man; military service members just had a different aura about them when compared to most civilians.

Nearing the table, Steve saw Jeff stand up. "Steve?"

Nodding, Steve stuck his hand out to shake Jeff's hand. "Steve McGarrett."

"Jeff Andrews," Jeff greeted in return as shook Steve's hand. Gesturing for the waitress, he reclaimed his seat. Steve took the seat opposite him. Once the waitress left with their drink orders – both ordered a Longboard beer – Jeff started to speak. "Thanks for meeting me." Opening up the manila folder that rested on the table top, he continued, "I don't have anything definitive but I did find a Cynthia McGarrett that flew from Seattle to New York then to Paris before landing in –"

"Prague," Steve interrupted. Seeing the surprised look on Jeff's face, he explained, "She sent Alex something and the postmark was from Prague."

Jeff nodded and then swallowed the lump in his throat before turning the folder so it was facing Steve. Pointing to a newspaper article that was written in Czech, he said, "Czech police found an unidentified, blonde woman in an alley; she was stabbed multiple times and barely clinging to life." Glancing at Steve, he said, "Based on the description that the police issued to the media in hopes of identification, I had a feeling it was Cindy." Flipping to the next page, he pointed to one phone number on a list of many that was circled. "I made a few calls and she is still alive. In a hospital, in a medically induced coma, but alive."

Steve sat back, expelling a breath as he tried to comprehend what Jeff had just told him. If Jeff's gut instinct about the woman was true, then that meant that his daughter's mother had been stabbed and left for dead in an alley. As much as he didn't like Cindy, as much as they fought, he still didn't think she deserved to be treated in such a manner. "You really think it's her?"

Jeff nodded, thanking the waitress when she brought them their beers. He took a swig and then set the bottle down on the table. "I know it is." Seeing the question in Steve's eyes, he explained, "I'm fluent in Czech and I claimed to be searching for a friend of mine who went missing. Long story short: in order to prove I really knew Cindy I told them about her tattoos. You know the numbers '0531' on her right shoulder blade."

Steve nodded. "Her dad's badge number."

Jeff nodded in return. "And the stars on her –"

"Left hip," Steve interrupted, calling to mind all-too clear memories of that smooth, inked patch of skin that he used to enjoy kissing and licking before moving his mouth lower. He shook his head to clear it and cleared his throat.

Jeff nodded again. "It's her, Steve." He downed another mouthful of beer. "I'm flying there tomorrow."

* * *

As they drove to the crime scene, Danny glanced over at Steve. Just based on the distracted look in Steve's eyes, Danny knew something was wrong. He was guessing it had something to do with the meeting Steve had had with Jeff Andrews last night. When Steve had returned to the house last night – Danny had stayed with Alex while Steve had gone to the meeting – Danny had not been able to ask him how it had gone, thanks to Alex still being wide awake; Steve had not wanted his daughter to know that Jeff was in town. Steve had been on his way to Alex's school that morning – it was the first day back after Winter break – when he had received the call about their case and had asked Danny to meet him there so they could drive over to the house together. With a mere glance at Steve as he climbed out of his car and moved to the passenger seat, Danny had been able to tell that whatever had been bothering Steve the night before – Danny had been granted a brief glimpse of it before Steve had pasted a fake smile on his face for his daughter – was still running rampant through his mind. "So what happened last night? You okay?"

"I met Jeff, he showed me what he found, and we talked."

Danny shook his head. "Yeah, I seem to remember him saying he had something to show you." When Steve didn't say anything, he asked, "You wanna share the specifics on what he shared with you or is it some top-secret Army thing?"

"Navy," Steve said with a sigh. "For the hundredth time, Danny, I was in the _Navy."_

"Yes, well," Danny replied, his voice taking on that tone. "I thought what we had established here was more than just a partnership. I thought this was a friendship and –"

"What's your point, Danny?"

"I don't know how it is in the _Navy,"_ Danny said, eliciting an annoyed eye roll from Steve. "Or maybe along with not being held as a child you weren't taught one of the essential elements of a friendship."

"Are you going to make your point sometime this year?"

Danny sighed loudly. "Usually when someone inquires as to what's bothering their friend, said friend answers –"

If for no other reason than to shut Danny up, Steve interrupted saying, "Cindy was found stabbed in Prague."

"What?!" Danny exclaimed with his mouth agape as he stared at Steve. "How did he determine that?"

Steve sighed. "Tattoos, Danny, Cindy's tattoos."

"Tattoos?" Danny asked, having no recollection of ever seeing a tattoo on Cindy. Not that he had ever seen her more than a handful of times.

Steve nodded, sighing again. "She has two." With a glance at Danny, he added, "One of which is in a location that very few people –"

"You know what?" Danny interrupted. "I don't need to think about your ex's… forget it, that's not what this is about." His face took on a concerned look. "How bad is she? Does Alex know? Did –"

Relieved that they had arrived at the crime scene, Steve just said, "Later, Danny."

* * *

As if walking into the teenage girl's bedroom and seeing her dead body still lying in the bed was hard enough, hearing her father talk about his daughter was even harder. When Danny had muttered that he really hated their job sometimes, Steve couldn't have agreed more. Times like this – cases like this that involved children, especially girls – made Steve question his decision to start Five-0, for no other reason, than the fact that he wouldn't see his daughter's face in every single child that he came into contact with as a result of his job. He had headed downstairs after that, only to hear Emily's father telling Lori about his daughter. Greg Winter was a single father after losing his wife to cancer two years ago. Emily had been his pride and joy and, hearing him talk about her, Steve couldn't help but think about Alex. He and Greg were both single fathers of teenager daughters; daughters who were their entire world. When it had come time for Steve to question Greg about any possible suspects, he hadn't even been able to look the man in his eyes. The mere _idea_ of losing Alex was painful enough; he could not imagine the pain Greg was feeling.

Very much relieved to be leaving the house - Greg's visible anguish had provoked far too many emotions in Steve – he found himself commenting in a way that masked what was really going through his head. "C'mon, what father actually likes his daughter's high school boyfriend?"

"My dad did," Lori stated matter-of-factly. "My mom did, too."

Stopping on the walkway, Steve asked, "What? Was he a eunuch?"

"No," Lori answered, shaking her head, before commenting, "I thought you liked Josh."

Steve gave her a weird look before he understood what she had just implied. "First off," he said, raising a finger, "Josh is not my daughter's boyfriend. Secondly –" He got interrupted when Kono and Danny approached them with the news they had acquired from the two teens who had found their friend's body.

* * *

As he followed Joe out of Adam Noshimuri's house, Steve could feel his heartbeat pulsing ridiculously fast in his temple. After they had tied up their case that afternoon, Steve thought back on the concerns that Chin had expressed regarding Joe. That, coupled with the fact that Alex had had reservations about Joe from day one, made him drive over to Joe's hotel room which was where he found Joe's abandoned cell phone in the hallway. Instantly he had known that the Yakuza had taken Joe.

After helping the beat up Joe get situated in the truck, he had climbed in the driver's seat and headed towards downtown. As fueled up on adrenaline as he was (and as angry as he was) Steve forced himself to not say a single word. Instead, they both sat there in absolute silence for five minutes until Joe finally said, "You realize you just started a war with the Yakuza."

"No, Joe," Steve replied. He could not believe Joe had the audacity to accuse him of that. "You did that when you kidnapped Hiro Noshimuri. They think you killed him."

"I did not kill Hiro," Joe said, his voice calm and even. Turning his head to look at Steve, he explained, "I helped him fake his death."

"What?" Steve spat out. "Why?"

"I can't tell you that."

Joe's comment caused Steve to slam on the brakes and the night air was filled with the sound of squealing tires. "I was tortured over Shelburne. I was tortured! Jenna Kaye paid for her life and my daughter was kidnapped!" Looking at Joe, he repeated, "Alex was kidnapped, Joe!" Slamming his hands on the steering wheel, he added, "I deserve answers, I want answers. I want them right now!"

"You know, Son," Joe said, wincing slightly at the pain in his ribs. "There was a time when I would have had you up on charges of insubordination for that."

"We are _not_ in the service anymore," Steve replied, his tone still angry. "And you are not my commanding officer."

Taking off his seatbelt, Joe responded, "You're right." He opened the passenger side door. "I'm not." With that, he was out of the truck and, after slamming the door shut, turned and started walking away in the direction that they had just come from.

Steve just sat there, slumped back against the seat, in complete disbelief at what had just happened. Replaying everything that had happened over the last seven months in regards to Joe and Shelburne, Steve felt that maybe his daughter had been right. Ever since that night the three of them had had dinner six months ago, Alex had been uneasy around Joe; she had distrusted him. With Chin having voiced his concerns as well, he was starting to believe that Alex's instincts about Joe, as they had been with Jenna Kaye, were spot on.

* * *

**A/N: As always, thanks for reading. The scene in Greg Winter's house (Episode 2.13) always bothered me because of how Steve's eyes refused to keep eye contact with Greg's (I rewatched it several times and it bothered me more and more each time); hopefully this helps explain why the Steve of this story might do that. **

**I have one question: Do you want Cindy to die from her injuries or recover? **


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your feedback is very motivating. You all are too kind! There is one small section in here that I'm not too pleased about but I honestly couldn't figure out a way to improve it so I left it as is. **

**I have a couple of favorite lines in this chapter, too. I'd be curious to see what all of your favorite lines end up being.  
**

* * *

"Is she there?"

"In her room," Steve said, answering Catherine's question. He had just spent half an hour recapping what he had discovered three days ago in regards to his daughter and her relentless search for her mother. At first, Catherine had expressed shock at Alex's actions but, as he went into more details about everything, her tone had taken on a touch of anger. "Why?"

"I want to talk to her."

"Cath –"

"Put her on the phone." When he sighed, she repeated, "Put her on the phone, Steve." Taking her tone for what it was, Steve yelled for his daughter, telling her that Catherine was on the phone and wanting to talk to her. As he had expected, Alex was out of her room and down the stairs in a flash. When she stopped in front of him, he handed her the phone, reminding her that, as a result of her punishment, she had lost her right to privacy so she could not just disappear into the backyard or bedroom with the phone.

Alex sent her dad an exasperated look which earned her a look that warned of more punishment. "Hi, Catherine," she greeted joyously as she claimed a seat on the couch, curling her legs up under her. Her expression changed as soon as she heard Catherine's voice.

"You hacked into government systems? What were you thinking?"

"I didn't _hack_," Alex said, a little taken aback because she had never heard Catherine's angry voice before. "Hacking would imply that I identified a vulnerability or weakness in a network _or _that I breached firewalls and password protections in order to access those sites. I didn't do any of that."

"No, Alex," Catherine replied. "What you did was use your dad's login information without his permission and –"

"Catherine –"

"Listen to me, Alex," Catherine said, interrupting the girl just like she had been interrupted. "Hacking is when you gain access with the intent of breaching without permission. That's _exactly_ what you did and it's a serious crime."

Still slightly shocked by this new side of Catherine, Alex glanced at her dad as she argued, "No one outside of dad's team knows I did it _and_ I covered my tracks."She expelled an angry breath knowing she would probably get in more trouble for what she was going to say next. "Just chill already." Yeah, the look she just got from her Dad promised he would make her life a living hell.

"Chill?" Catherine asked before expelling a breath to calm herself. "Tell me again who knows what you did."

Alex rolled her eyes. She was tempted to just hang up on Catherine but, based on the look on her dad's face, knew she better not. "Uncle Danny, Chin, Kono, Lori and Da—"

"Exactly, Alex," Catherine interrupted. "Lori knows and who does she work for?"

This had to be one of the dumbest conversations she had ever had with anyone. As was usually the case when she was dealing with stupidity, sarcasm found its way onto her tongue. "Well, gee, I don't know. Maybe she works for my _Dad_ since she's part of _his team_."

Catherine barely reacted to the teenager's sarcasm. She'd dealt with enough sarcasm over the years that it didn't faze her in the least. "That's where you're wrong. Lori works for the _governor_. Remember? Governor Denning brought her on board to –"

"Babysit my Dad," Alex finished for her, finally understanding why Catherine was so upset with her. She thought that she had considered all of the possible consequences for her actions. Yet, the fact that Lori was hired to report all of Five-0's actions directly to the governor had never crossed her mind. Not even once. Alex looked across the room at her Dad, guilt hitting her right in the gut. Even though she had covered her tracks and there was no one outside of Five-0 who knew that she had pretended to be her dad in order to gain access to those sites, it now dawned on her that both she and her dad could still get in serious trouble for what she had done. If Lori told the Governor, her Dad could lose his job and she could go to prison. She had _really_ screwed up.

"Exactly!" Catherine said.

Alex just sat there listening to Catherine ramble on how about irresponsible she had been and about how she needed to start thinking about how her actions reflect on her dad. Catherine just kept talking and, before long, Alex wasn't even sure she heard any of the words being said. All she knew was that she could feel the anger building inside of her. Alex wasn't sure how long she sat there until, finally, she yelled, "You're not my Mom!" Getting to her feet, she added, "Stop acting like you are!" With that, she slammed the phone into her dad's chest and ran up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door closed behind her.

Staring up at his daughter's closed bedroom door, he was shocked at what had just happened. Alex had never – never! – yelled at Catherine before. Nor had she ever accused Catherine of acting like her mother; the two had always been on good terms. "Cath," he said gently. "I am so sorry. She had no –"

"It's fi –"

"No, it's not fine," he interrupted. "She had no right – NO right – to yell at you like she did."

"Well, maybe I didn't have the right to lecture her like I did."

"Are you kidding me?" Steve asked, glaring up at Alex's closed bedroom door. How dare his daughter be disrespectful to Catherine. Regardless of how pissed off Alex was – Steve knew his daughter well enough to know that she was angry at herself, NOT at Catherine, which is why she reacted the way she did – that was no excuse for her behavior. "You have always had my permission to lecture her or yell at her if she needs it." _Same goes for Danny, Chin and Kono. Or any adult that cares about Alex as if she were family. _

"Yeah," Catherine agreed, remembering the conversation she had shared with Steve not long after that day she had spent at the lake with him and Alex. "But, still, she had a point: I'm not her mother."

Steve sighed. Somehow, even from a hospital bed nearly 7500 miles away, Cindy still managed to have a negative effect on their daughter and her relationships with other people. It was just another reminder of what he had felt for several months now, since that first time he had seen Catherine interact with his daughter. "You've been more of a mother to her than Cindy ever was." The two had only known each other for seven months yet Catherine had shown Alex more love in that amount of time than Cindy ever had. As with any kid, Alex needed to know that she was cared about and loved, that her thoughts and opinions mattered, and that people supported and believed in her. Catherine had provided all of that to Alex. Alex had always been so carefree and happy whenever she was with Catherine.

He heard a sharp intake of breath and then, "That's… I never tried to take the place of her mother, Steve."

"She doesn't think that, Cath. Not really. She –"

"I gotta go," Catherine interrupted. "I'll call you later."

"Cath –"

"Love you."

"Love you, too," Steve replied, sighing when he heard the dial tone. _Way to go, Alex. Now you have Cath questioning the relationship she built with you. _Steve sighed, glancing upstairs again. The sound of the slamming door still echoed in his head; his daughter just dictated another condition of her punishment. Tossing the phone onto the couch, he stood up and headed for the closet. Pulling out the tool box, he opened it and grabbed a Phillips Head screwdriver. Leaving the toolbox in the middle of the floor, he headed upstairs, pushing open his daughter's bedroom door without knocking. Without even a mere glance in her direction, he started removing the hinges of the door.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Watch your mouth," Steve told her, glancing over at her bed where she was sitting up reading a book.

"What are you doing?" She asked again, closing the book and standing up.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Alex?" The top screws loose, he squatted down and started working on the lower hinge.

"Why are you taking my door off?"

Storing the lower screws in his pocket, he stood back up and faced her. "I have told you over and over again to not slam the door." Using the screw driver to point, he continued, "Yet you continue –"

"But it's my room," Alex protested. "As it is, you've already taken away my computer privileges and cell phone and you listen to every conversation I have on –"

"Alex," he interrupted, his voice sending her a warning that she was about to cross the line.

"I have very little privacy and now you take –"

"Have you finished your homework?" He turned back around and lifted the door off the hinges, leaning it against the wall before turning back around.

"What?"

"Did you finish your homework?" He asked again, this time much slower and emphasizing each and every word.

"Yes. It's –"

"Good," Steve interrupted again. "Go to bed."

"What?" Alex asked, disbelief written on her face. "It's 8:30."

"I don't care, Alex," Steve said, completely fed up with her. "Lights out," he said, reaching over and flipping off the light. "Get in bed and stay there until –"

"Dad!"

"I won't tell you again, Alex. Go to bed."

* * *

Opening his bedroom door, Steve stepped into the hallway. In his left hand was the note that his daughter had slid under his door after he had refused to let her into his room. Instead, in response to her knock on the door, he had told her to go back to her room and go to bed which is what he had instructed her to do after he removed her bedroom door. As relentless as ever, she had finally given up after the third try choosing, instead, to slip a note under the door. He had continued his conversation with his old SEAL buddy, Sam Hanna, finally reading the note nearly an hour after she had left it for him.

_Dad,_

_I'm sorry. Even though I don't think she'll say anything, I should have thought about the possibility of Lori telling the Governor what I did. I messed up BIG TIME. I know that now and I am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me. I love you. _

_Love, _

_Alex_

Stepping into his daughter's room, he was pleased to see that she had finally given in and fallen asleep. She was sprawled out on her stomach on top of her covers; one arm dangled off the side of the bed, fingers clutching something. He stepped back into the hallway, pulling an extra blanket out of the linen closet. Back in her room, he covered her with the blanket. Then, lifting her arm to set it on the bed, he spotted the item in her hand; a photo of Cindy, him and a very young Alex. Gently prying the photo free of her fingers, he hesitated when Alex rolled over onto her side. When he was satisfied that she was still asleep, he quietly stepped out of her room.

Back in his room, he climbed back into his bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. He studied the picture, his thumb tracing over the seemingly happy family captured in time. He couldn't remember the exact day that this photo had been taken but, based on Alex's size and looks, he guessed it had been taken when she was three. At that point, he and Cindy were only in the very beginning stages of their downward spiral – they had some pretty intense fights but the sex was still frequent and as incredible as ever – but, at that point, he still felt that they were pretty happy. Yet, knowing what he knew now in regards to Cindy's true feelings about their family and their daughter, he could see the truth behind the snapshot. Smiles certainly could be deceiving; in Cindy's case, her smile hid the fact that she regretted ever having their daughter.

As he sat there staring at the picture, he found himself playing the "what if" game. He wondered how differently things would be if Cindy had been more like his mother; loving, caring, supportive, kind. Doris McGarrett had never done anything to hurt either one of her children. How different would Alex be if Cindy had never belittled her or made her feel unloved and unappreciated. He only had good memories of his mother and he wished Alex could have similar memories of Cindy.

He wondered what things would be like if he had abandoned his dream of becoming a SEAL. There was no guarantee that he and Cindy would have been married or if they would have stayed together longer than they had. He knew all of that that but perhaps if he had chosen his family over the SEALs Alex wouldn't have had to spend her life living with a woman who had made her life a living hell. Maybe he would have been able to be there more for his daughter. Maybe she would have been able to live with him and maybe she wouldn't have had to spend so much time doubting his love for her.

Maybe Alex would be less burdened, less independent, less stubborn. Maybe she never would have had to deal with so many adult things; maybe she'd be more of an innocent child. His dad would still have been murdered, of that there was no doubt in his mind. But maybe, if he had made different choices in his life, he would not be the kind of man that he was now – one who relentlessly pursued the man ultimately responsible for his dad's death. Maybe Alex would never have had to deal with the added burden of being kidnapped and later held at knifepoint. Maybe his daughter would never have had to see a man die in front of her.

Maybe Cindy would never have had to write him the letter that he had received at the office – Jeff had located it in the apartment Cindy had been renting in Prague and had it overnighted to him – in the mail that morning. Maybe if he had done things differently, Cindy wouldn't be in a hospital with the possibility of never waking up. Setting the photo down on the pillow next to him, he reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, removing the letter he had hidden there.

_Steve,_

_If you're reading this it means the men that have been chasing me – the men who had threatened me – have found me. Most likely, I'm probably dead. At least, that was what I was threatened with if I failed to bring Alex back to Seattle with me. _

_I should have been honest with you that day at the mall security office. I should have told you the real reason I was back, the real reason I wanted Alex to come back to Seattle with me. I should have told you the truth but I was scared. I was scared to death that they would make good on their threat, both to me and our daughter. I made so many mistakes, Steve, but my biggest one was not being honest with you and not asking for your help. If I had, maybe you wouldn't be reading this and maybe I would still be alive. If I had, maybe I would have had the chance to see our daughter graduate high school. Go to college. Fall in love. Get married. Maybe I would have been able to make things right with her again._

_A couple of months ago, I was approached by a man with some sort of accent. I'm sure you or Alex would have identified the accent immediately but, as you know, I don't have an ear for language like you two do. This man showed me pictures of Alex and of you. Of your friend Danny and the other two you work with and the pretty brunette who I can only assume is your girlfriend. He had pictures of all of you. He had pictures of our daughter, Steve. All kinds of pictures of her which told me that he could very easily make good on his threat. _

_He told me that if I didn't get Alex away from you, she would end up dead. He said that the man who hired him had already had your father killed and that, sooner rather than later, he would kill you, too. He said that if I didn't want Alex caught in the crossfire that I needed to do what I could to keep her away from you. He wanted it done right away but, after explaining everything, I was able to persuade him to give me some time. I couldn't just walk back into her life and convince her to come home with me. _

_I know it's far too late for this but what I learned during those few months on the island is this… I do love her, Steve. I love our daughter. When the man threatened her life, I was scared. I've never been a good mother and I acknowledge that I probably never really tried to be the mother Alex deserved but the thought of her being killed in some blood feud that involves you and this man's boss… it causes an ache in my heart that I never knew I was capable of feeling. Even though I'm terrible at showing it, I do love her. _

_I'm sure she told you that I gave her an ultimatum. I made her choose between us and I know that wasn't fair to either of you. I'm sorry but I was just trying to keep her safe. Even before I proposed the idea that she move back to Seattle with me, I knew that you are the best thing for her. You are a great father and I can't be happier about the fact that she has you as her dad. When she made her choice by choosing you I suppose I probably could have just taken her and run until I knew she was safe. Of course, that would have probably made her hate me even more and it would have caused you to come after us but, still, I could have done it. _

_Of course now, as I'm on a flight to Prague, I am so glad that I didn't fight her decision to stay with you. They're coming after me, Steve. Not the same man but someone who works with him. I don't think they ever planned on keeping Alex out of this. I think she and I are on their list of targets and that the only reason they wanted me to take her from you was to make you more vulnerable. If I succeeded in bringing her back to Seattle, I think they would have killed both of us for no other reason than because they know that losing Alex would destroy you, making you more vulnerable to an attack. Your love for our daughter is your greatest strength but it's also your greatest weakness. They know that and they're going to try to use that against you._

_That's why I'm on my way to Prague. Why Prague, you ask? I always wanted to see the city where my parents fell in love and, if I'm going to die, at least I will have checked this place off of my bucket list. Ever since I left Honolulu, I've been being followed. I think I've managed to convince them that I had sent Alex to Prague to keep her safe. They think I'm on my way there to be with her. I'll continue to live the lie if it means their attention is off of you and Alex. I just want her to be safe. Keep her safe, Steve. _

_Take care of our daughter, Steve. You know what's best for her and I trust that you will always do right by her. Part of me has always loved you and I'm sorry for acting otherwise. You're a good man, Steve. I wish you a good, happy life. Be safe, be happy, be loved. _

_Cindy_

Cindy obviously had not realized the full magnitude of the situation. She had no idea about the severity of Wo Fat's hatred towards all things McGarrett or anything related to the mysterious Shelburne. Running off to Europe, possibly being followed by one or two hired hands, was not the solution to the problem. She hadn't considered the fact that Boris or the man who had initially contacted her were still in Hawaii. Yet, he couldn't hold that against her; there was no way she could have known any of that. He had to keep reminding himself that she wasn't dead; she had survived the brutal attack somehow. Sheer will power most likely.

Upon positive identification of the injured Jane Doe as Cindy, Jeff had called David. He was on a flight to Prague right now. The doctors had not been able to judge Cindy's prognosis just yet but were hoping for a positive recovery. They would have a better idea once they attempted to wake her from the medically induced coma. So far Prague police did not have any leads as to who had stabbed her and left her for dead; Jeff hoped the knowledge he shared with them about Boris and Boris' accomplice would provide further insight into possible suspects. At this point, Steve wasn't sure if he should tell Alex that her mom had been attacked. It wasn't feasible to take his daughter to Prague to visit Cindy and telling Alex would only cause more stress and worry for her. He was lost as to what to do. For now he would go with his gut instinct which was telling him to hold off on telling her the news.

* * *

Any thoughts he had about asking Danny for advice were abandoned the following morning when he decided to follow Joe White into Chinatown and down an alley near an antique store. He told Joe that he needed to come clean with Adam Noshimuri about his father's whereabouts. Of course, stubborn as ever, Joe had refused. Then, Steve had been called to a case, meeting Chin, Danny and Kono at the scene on Kamehameha Highway where a delivery truck had come under fire, resulting in the death of one of the two employees. As he and Danny had driven to the surviving driver Lee Dolan's house, the thought had crossed his mind to mention Cindy's letter to Danny but, not knowing what to say exactly, he abandoned the idea for the second time. After that, his adrenaline had kicked into high gear, forcing himself to forget all about it. Then, Danny had received a call from Rachel who was going into labor and Danny had rushed off to the hospital.

The day only went downhill from there when Steve got called to HPD Headquarters after the Yakuza had opened fire on Joe as he walked down a sidewalk in downtown Honolulu. After a second shootout, Five-0 discovered that the missing package contained an order of one-hundred forged passports. Then, he and Joe met up with Adam Noshimuri and members of the Yakuza. Steve was beyond shocked when Joe pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number that belonged to Adam's father, Hiro – the very man who the Yakuza thought Joe had killed. Steve's shock grew when Joe explained what had happened: Joe helped Hiro fake his death after becoming an enemy of Wo Fat. Joe explained that it was all done to protect Adam. Sometimes, as Joe's words could be interpreted, parents had to lie to their kids in order to protect them.

It had been one hell of a long day, especially after learning that the antique dealer – who operated out of the antique store Steve had followed Joe to that morning – with a connection to their case was a friend of Joe's who used to forge documents for the CIA. In addition, Joe admitted to getting a passport made which hadn't made any sense to Steve since Joe already had one. He sensed it had something to do with Shelburne and he was more than relieved to later learn, at the site of his father's burial plot no less, that Shelburne was an alias created by Joe and John McGarrett to protect Steve and Mary. Joe also admitted, much to Steve's surprise, that Joe had killed Wo Fat's father; that was the event that had fueled Wo Fat's desire for revenge. After that, Steve had been forced to say goodbye to his old friend and mentor when Joe decided to leave Hawaii and not tell anyone where he was going.

* * *

When Steve found Danny at the hospital, Danny was taking a picture of Rachel's new son. Glancing through the glass of the nursery, Steve couldn't help but think back nearly fifteen years ago to his daughter's birth and a smile appeared on his face. Just as it had then, looking in at a nursery full of newborns had a soothing effect on him.

"If you say he has my nose, I'll bust yours."

Steve gave into a chuckle before asking, "What are you doing?"

"I'm sending Stanley a photo of his baby boy," Danny answered, clicking send on his phone. "I don't think a father should miss this."

Steve silently agreed with him. His daughter's birth had been one of the most stressful days of his life yet it had also been one of the best. Nothing in life compared to the way it had felt when he had laid eyes on Alex for the first time. Stanley would probably spend the rest of his life regretting not being there for his son's birth. They both watched the babies in the nursery for a few seconds before Steve asked, "Hungry?"

"Yeah," Danny answered, his eyes never moving off of little Charlie's face.

"I'll buy you a Zip Pac," Steve said, nudging Danny with his shoulder. "C'mon, my treat."

"Okay," Danny said, his eyes lingering a little while on the squirming newborn in a blanket. "But we'll have to go wake our daughters first."

Danny still couldn't believe that Alex had shown up last night. Apparently Grace had called her after seeing the multitude of nurses rush into Rachel's room. Alex had checked with him on Rachel's status and then had gone to sit with Grace. After Charlie's birth, he had gone to the waiting room to get Grace and found that his daughter was fast asleep with her head resting in a sleeping Alex's lap. He had roused both girls and took them in to see Charlie. Then Alex had taken Grace back to the waiting room so Rachel could get some sleep. The last he had checked on them was an hour ago and it had warmed his heart to see the sisterly way they had been sleeping. The girls were curled up on their sides on a set of chairs with Grace sleeping in front of Alex; Alex's arm was draped protectively over Grace. People could argue their beliefs however they wanted to but Danny firmly believed that the major reason his life had crossed paths with Steve's was to bring these two girls together. By becoming Steve's work partner and then friend, his daughter had been introduced to the big sister that blood would never give her. For that, he would be eternally grateful.

"Alex is still here?" He had not been at all surprised when his daughter had called him last night to tell him that Jason Sullivan had dropped her off at the hospital. Not when she had explained the phone call she had received from Grace. It was evident to everyone that Alex treated Grace like the little sister she would probably never have. The girls were close and Alex had never failed to be there for Grace when she needed her. He was surprised, however, that Alex was not at school now. She had promised him last night that Jason would be picking her up that morning to take her to school with Josh.

"Yeah," Danny answered. "I woke her up at 4:30 and asked her if she had any tests or projects due today and when she said she didn't, I told her she could miss school today." Danny glanced at Steve. "Sorry. I didn't think you would mind since she was up late with Grace."

"That's fine," Steve said and it really was. He trusted Danny to make good decisions when it came to Alex and, honestly, her missing one day of school really wasn't that big of a deal. They proceeded into the waiting room, calling their daughter's names until both girls woke up, rubbing their eyes as they sat up.

"Uncle Steve!" Grace said loudly when she spotted him standing there. She ran to him and hugged him.

"Hi, Gracie," he replied, returning her hug.

"Did you see Charlie?"

He nodded and gave her a smile. "Yes, I saw Charlie." Grace continued to talk to him, showing him pictures of her brother that she had taken on her phone. As she talked, he noticed that his daughter had vacated her seat and left the room.

"Hey, Monkey," Danny said, stealing his daughter's attention away from Steve. "Let's go say bye to your Mom before we go get breakfast."

Leaving Danny to help his daughter gather her things in her backpack, Steve left the waiting room and spotted his daughter turning left at the end of the hallway. He headed after her, finally finding her standing in front of the glass of the newborn nursery. "Hey," he greeted, standing next to her and facing the nursery as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Hi," she replied, her eyes never leaving the group of six, sleeping newborns. She had this intense, laser-like focus that usually signaled that she was deep in thought.

Steve glanced at her, trying to determine what was going through her mind. He had barely talked to her in nearly 36 hours which was far too long for his liking. He had, however, talked briefly to Catherine during his drive over here from the cemetery that morning and what he had learned from her had reminded her of just how sweet his daughter was at heart. "Catherine called me. She told me I didn't need to tell you to apologize to her." When all he got out of that was a guilty glance from her, he added, "Funny thing is, I never told you that you needed to apologize to her."

"I never told her you made me call her," Alex told him, her gaze still focused straight ahead as she studied the stirring newborns. As soon as she had yelled at Catherine the other night, accusing her of trying to replace her mom, she had known she was wrong. She had hurt Catherine, of that there was no question. So, yesterday morning after her dad had dropped her at school, she had borrowed Josh's cell phone and dialed Catherine. She apologized for her behavior and then thanked Catherine for caring enough about her to yell at her and lecture her. She didn't realize that Catherine would call her dad to tell him she had apologized.

"I know," Steve said, taking his hands out of his pockets. "I'm proud of you for admitting that you were wrong for yelling at her."

"Yeah, well," Alex said as she stepped closer to the glass. "You did teach me to take responsibility for my actions."

"Yeah," Steve murmured, a small smile dancing across his face. Hearing her say that made him feel like he was doing at least one thing right as her father. "Thanks for being here for Grace." When his daughter didn't say anything in return, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and asked, "You okay?"

"What was it like?"

Her question confused him. "What?"

Tearing her eyes away from the babies, she looked up at him and asked, "My birth." She shrugged. "I don't know anything about when I was born." She glanced back at the nursery before saying, "I mean, I don't know what time I was born or how long Mom was in labor for or…" She looked up at him. "Were you even there for it?" She had seen pictures of her as a newborn with her parents that had been taken at the hospital but no one had ever told her the story of her birth. She didn't even know if her dad had made it for the delivery or if he had made it to the hospital afterwards.

"Yes," Steve answered, giving her a smile. It had never dawned on him that she might have an interest in how she had come into this world. The facts of his birth had never mattered to him. Thinking about it now, Mary had always expressed an interest in her birth story, too; maybe it was a girl thing. Or maybe Alex was just searching for some kind of connection to a mother's love that she had never really known. "I was there when you were born. It was the best day of my life and I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

His daughter smiled. "Really?"

"Yes, really," he answered, squeezing her shoulder. "How about we go meet up with Danny and Grace and I will tell you the whole story on the way to breakfast?"

* * *

**A/N: Okay, was it surprising to you that Catherine got on Alex's case about what she had done? Would you have expected Catherine to handle it differently? **

**What did you think about Cindy's letter to Steve?  
**

**As always, thanks for reading! Mahalo!  
**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews for the last chapter. Truly appreciate the time you spend reading and reviewing. **

**As for this chapter - it's shorter than most and I'm not entirely pleased with it. I know that writers are their own worst critics but I really struggled with writing this. Nothing seems to have come out as well as I would have liked but I've decided to post it anyways since I've spent far too long trying to revise without any success. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you too much. The next chapter is turning out much more pleasing (for me, anyways) so hopefully you stick around until then.  
**

**Please read the A/N at the end of this chapter. Thanks!  
**

* * *

"Hey, Sweetheart," Steve greeted, speaking loudly so the speaker phone would pick up his voice. "I can't really talk right now."

"Grace is missing," his daughter's shaky voice came through the phone. "I saw the Maile Amber Alert on TV. She's –"

"I know," he interrupted. "We're looking for her now." They were also trying to locate Danny who had gone off the grid a little while ago after finding out that their suspect in the death of Agent Dave Collins – who was also a friend of Danny's – had pictures of Grace, Danny, Rachel, and Stan in his house. They had tried numerous times to contact Danny but, so far, had had no luck in reaching him. Of course, Steve wasn't going to tell his daughter that.

"It's your case?"

"It's Grace, honey." Even if wasn't officially their case, it would be their case. Grace was missing. Danny's daughter was missing. Anything affecting any member of their ohana automatically propelled the rest of them into doing whatever was necessary to resolve the situation. "Of course it's our case."

"You gotta find her, Dad," Alex pleaded, her voice teetering on tearful.

"We're going to do our best," Steve said with a glance to his right at Chin who was trying to get a lock on the GPS installed in Danny's car. "I gotta go, Sweetheart. I love you and I'll see you tonight."

He hung up the phone in the very moment that Chin said, "Danny's a couple miles ahead of us. Turn left at the next intersection."

* * *

Stepping back inside the classroom, Alex took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. The cold sweat slowly making its way down her back didn't help matters any. Stopping just inside the door, she watched as her friends worked on the posters for the first of Heart2Heart's spring fundraising events. She headed over to where they were working: a group of desks they had pushed together to serve as a table. She handed Josh's cell phone back to him; now it made sense why he had received a text from her dad about an hour ago telling him that Alex would be going home with him tonight. Josh gave her a small smile and then, wanting to try to help distract her, he handed her a red marker and nodded towards the other side of the poster where letters were drawn that needed to be filled in. She moved past him and around the table, accidentally bumping Seth's shoulder as she did. With a quick flash, her mind took her back to the van, her body bouncing on the dirty floor with every bump they drove over. Shaking her head, she forced the memory out of her head.

As Josh resumed his conversation with the other four members of Heart2Heart, she uncapped the marker. Lowering her hand to the paper served as a reminder of the panic attack that was beginning to settle in; her shaky hand would make it nearly impossible for her to color within the lines. Grateful for the fact that her friends were distracted, she quietly set down the marker and headed out of the room.

Once outside, she sat down on the ground, resting her back against the wall. Her knees bent, she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Instead of being distracted by the fact that she couldn't breathe normally, she tried to focus her attention on the group of three Pacific Golden Plovers resting in the open, grassy courtyard. Her heart racing even faster, she lifted her hand up and, with her palm facing downward, watched the tremors in her hand.

"Try deep breathing."

Alex turned her head at the sound of Josh's voice. As if it were that easy. Frustrated, she muttered, "I _can't_."

"Here," he said, sitting down next to her and grabbing her hand. He placed her hand on his chest, holding it there so she could feel every time he inhaled and exhaled. "Breathe in." _One. Two. Three seconds. _"Hold your breath." _One. Two. Three seconds._ "Exhale through your mouth." He repeated that with her, over and over again, for another five minutes, the whole time noting that she kept alternating between wiping her other hand on her jeans and massaging the scar on her palm with her thumb. _Think, Josh. This isn't working. _"Count backwards from 100 by threes."

"Josh," Alex said, shaking her head at the stupidity of it.

"Alex," he said, removing his hand from hers and reaching for her free hand. "One hundred," he started for her before starting to massage her palm.

She expelled an anxiety-laced breath. "Ninety-seven. Ninety-four. Ninety-one. Eighty-eight. Eighty-five. Eighty-two." She continued slowly counting backwards, her eyes closed as she focused on the numbers. About halfway through she stopped, not because she couldn't come up with the right number but because an image of Grace, lost and alone and scared, entered her mind. Then, suddenly, she was back in the cabin, the cuff tight around her ankle. Her head was throbbing and she could feel the dried, caked on blood in her hair and on her face. The dark swallowed the room and the stench of fresh vomit filled the air. A light tapping sound moved around the room; she did not even want to think about what kind of rodent had decided to spend the night with her. Someone was saying her name but it was coming from too far away for her to tell who it was. They said it again; closer this time.

"Alex." Her eyes opened; the sunlight caused her to squint. Her heart beating rapidly, she looked to her right.

"You kinda went away for awhile," Josh told her, his face full of concern. Slowly becoming aware of everything around her again, she realized that her right hand was still on Josh's chest where she could feel his strong but rapid heartbeat. She could feel the warmth of his body underneath his t-shirt and the way his eyes searched hers made her feel more exposed than ever before. Feeling a slight blush appear on her cheeks, she reclaimed her hand and dropped eye contact with him. She diverted her eyes to watch as he continued to massage the area around the scar on her palm.

"Better?"

Swallowing hard, she answered, "Yeah." Stealing a glance at him, she said, "Thanks."

He gave her a smile and stopped massaging her hand. They sat there for several minutes, neither of them saying anything. "It's more than just Grace missing, isn't it?" He knew in his heart that, even though Alex was scared to death for Grace, this panic attack was the result of something else. "It's okay, you know, if it is." When she turned her head to look at him, he added, "It's bad enough that Grace is missing." He laid his head back against the wall and expelled a nervous breath. "She's like a little sister to me, too." Looking at Alex again, he admitted, "I'm scared."

"Me too," Alex whispered.

Josh nodded and looked down at their hands – when did their fingers become entwined? – before asking, "You were back there, weren't you? In the cabin."

Alex took a deep breath and then released it loudly. Glancing at him, she nodded. "Yeah." She looked down at their hands, disentangled her fingers from his, and flipped her hand over so that her palm was facing upward. "It's why…" She shook her head, a little frustrated that, once again, she had failed miserably at controlling her anxiety.

"It hurt," he finished for her. In the nearly eight months since he and Alex had first met, they had become very aware of the subtle habits of the other. Alex was one of the few people who knew that he had a tendency of scratching his head almost obsessively whenever he was thinking about his mom. She was also one of the very few people, if not the only person besides his Dad, who could tell when something was bothering him just by the slight change in how he held his shoulders. He, on the other hand, had learned months ago that she experienced pain, or maybe just perceived what she felt as pain, in her hand every time she was thinking of her kidnapping. Even before she had left the room earlier with his cell phone to call her dad, he had been able to tell, just by the subtle change in her eyes, that she was starting to get panicky. As it was, this wasn't the first time he had tried to help her through an anxiety attack.

"Yeah," she mumbled, her eyes downcast as she studied her scar.

"Have you told your –"

"No," she interrupted, popping her head up to look at him. She knew exactly what he was going to ask; he'd been pushing her to tell her dad about her panic attacks for weeks now. She hadn't even told her therapist about the severity or the frequency of her panic attacks.

"You should tell him," Josh reminded her gently, his thumb absently rubbing comforting circles on her palm. "Or," he added with a shrug, "I could tell him for you."

"I'll tell him tonight," she told him. Today's panic attack, and how impossible it had been to stave it off, served as a reminder of her dad's words from only a few days ago – she needed to challenge herself to not deal with everything by herself. She owed it to her dad, and maybe even to herself, to be honest with him and to share with him what she had been dealing with. "I have to tell him, Josh. I know that," she told him, pulling her hand away from his to pull her hair into a ponytail. "And I will. Promise."

* * *

"You got her?" Jason asked as soon as he opened his front door and saw Steve standing there.

Swallowing the lump in his throat as he stepped inside the house, he nodded. "We got her. She's safe." Dirty, scared, and in tears, but Danny's little girl was safe again.

"Thank God," Jason said, shutting the door behind them. "Sam's been worried sick about her and…" he trailed off, calling to mind that his son's fear – as well as his and Josh's – were nothing compared to Danny's or, for that matter, Steve's, who knew all too well what it was like to have his child kidnapped. "Kids fell asleep about an hour ago. Alex is in the guest room."

"Thanks," Steve said, following Jason up the stairs to the second floor. "I really appreciate you keeping an eye on my daughter today."

"My pleasure, Steve," Jason returned, glancing over his shoulder at Steve. "She's welcome here anytime." Besides, he was still in the process of paying Steve back for the many times he had taken care of his boys for him. They reached the second floor and turned right to head to the guest room at the end of the hall.

"Mr. McGarrett?" Steve and Jason both turned around at the sound of the voice. Peeking out from the half-open door of his bedroom stood a sleepy-eyed Sam.

"Hey, Sam," Steve greeted, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the other two kids just yet.

Opening his door all the way, Sam stepped out of his room and approached Steve who squatted down until he was eye-level with the boy. "Did you find Grace?"

Steve nodded and gave him a smile. "Yes, we did."

"Is she okay? Did the bad man hurt her?"

Grace didn't have any physical injuries but, as he knew all too well, the emotional and psychological issues were what they all had to worry about. Steve just hoped that Grace was able to bounce back from this without any long term psychological damage. "She's safe at home now." Sam's unexpected hug nearly caused him to fall backwards.

"Thanks for saving my friend."

Hugging the boy, Steve said, "You're welcome, buddy."

"Come on, Sam," Jason said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder when Sam was done hugging Steve. "Let's get you back to bed and let Mr. McGarrett go wake up Alex."

After bidding Sam good night, Steve turned and headed down the long hallway. His hand on the doorknob, he slowly opened the door and spent a few minutes standing in the doorway just watching his daughter sleep. Today's case had really taken a toll on them. First, Danny's friend from New Jersey had been found dead in an airplane bathroom. Then, after Danny went off the grid, they discovered that Grace had been picked up from her tennis lesson by a cop who had claimed that Danny had been injured. Then they had found out that the man who had posed as the HPD cop was really Danny's former partner back in Jersey, the same man – and dirty cop – that Danny had testified against many years ago. Ever since getting out of prison, Rick Peterson had been following Danny's family, with the sole purpose of making Danny lose his family. Kidnapping Grace had been the first part of Peterson's plan; forcing Danny to shoot Stan had been the second.

It had been an emotional day for all of them. Steve's heart had ached for Danny and Rachel throughout the entire ordeal. He had been through the pain of his child being kidnapped and he would never wish that kind of pain and turmoil on anyone, not even his worst enemy. Many times throughout their investigation Steve's thoughts had turned to his daughter – her terrified phone call to him hadn't helped matters any – but he had forced himself to stay focused on what Danny was going through. That moment when he and Danny had found Grace, tied to a chair behind boxes in a hot storage container, was the first time since Alex's phone call to him that he had allowed himself to think of her. As he had watched Grace be reunited with her parents, his mind had drifted back to that moment seven months ago in the hospital when he had laid eyes on his daughter for the first time since she had been taken from him three days earlier. It had made him want to do nothing more than drive over to the Sullivan's and wrap his arms around Alex. That is exactly where he headed as soon as all of the team's weapons were logged back into the armory and after ensuring that Rick Peterson had checked into his cell at Halawa Correctional Facility.

Stepping into the small room, Steve sat on the edge of the bed and nudged her awake with a hand on her back.

"Dad?" She said, quickly sitting up when she saw that it was him. "Grace. Is she –"

"She's okay, Sweetheart," he assured her, breathing in the smell of her shampoo when she threw her arms around his neck.

He hugged her tightly for several long minutes and then, after gathering her things, he ushered her to his truck where, once inside, he hugged her to him again, not neglecting to place a kiss to the top of her head.

* * *

A knock on his bedroom door roused him from his sleep. Rolling over onto his back, Steve groaned and looked at the door that was only open a crack. "What do you need, Alex?" Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, he saw that it was only 3:45 in the morning; they had gotten home just over two hours ago.

"Sorry," she said, recognizing his tone as the one he used when he had just woken up. "You were sleeping. I'll—"

"It's okay," he told her, sitting up in the bed and running a hand across his face. "You can come in."

The door was pushed open and there, in the doorway, stood his daughter wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. That was the first sign that something was bothering her – he'd learned over the months that she only wore his clothes when she was scared, worried, or upset about something. "I can't sleep," she told him, as if that weren't obvious by the time displayed on the clock next to his bed. "And, I, um, was wondering if we could talk."

"Of course we can, Sweetheart," he replied, patting the bed next to him and adjusting the pillow – Catherine's pillow – so it would be between her and the headboard when she sat down.

"You said I should challenge myself to not deal with stuff alone," she commented as she sat down next to him, grabbing the picture off of the nightstand on this side of the bed. It was a candid picture of her dad and Catherine; she had caught them dancing in the middle of the backyard the last time Catherine was in town. She wished Catherine was here; things were different when she was. When Catherine was around, when it was just the three of them, Alex felt like she had two caring, loving parents and even her dad was different during those times. Sometimes she found herself imagining what it would be like if her Dad and Catherine got married. Not like that would every happen since she was probably destined to never know what it was like to have two loving parents living with her.

Steve nodded. "What are you trying to not deal with by yourself?"

Alex set the picture frame back down on the nightstand. "I had a panic attack today after I got off the phone with you."

"A panic attack," Steve repeated. He was not at all surprised that she had experienced a panic attack; after everything she had been through, he had actually expected her to at some point. Yet, he was surprised that she had freely admitted it to him. Normally, she had a tendency of hiding that kind of stuff from him.

Alex nodded and looked at him. "It wasn't the first time."

"Okay," Steve replied. He wasn't exactly pleased with the fact that she had hidden from him that she had been experiencing panic attacks. This was one of those things that ranked up there with her insomnia; he needed to know about them. However, he was proud of her for having heeded his advice to stop dealing with things by herself; for that, he'd spare her a lecture and his frustration. "How long has this been going on?"

She shrugged. "I dunno."

He wasn't quite sure he believed that. "Did they start before or after the smoothie shop?"

"Before," she answered. "But they were different then."

"Different how?"

Alex shrugged. "They didn't last a long time and they were easy to deal with. They didn't happen as much as they do now." She turned her hand over and looked at the scar on her palm. "This didn't used to hurt when…" she trailed off, giving into another shrug. "It just used to be different."

"Can you tell me more about them?" he asked her, squeezing her hand comfortingly. "What it feels like, how frequently they occur, where –"

"My heart rate increases and I can't breathe right," she said, interrupting him. It actually felt very relieving to tell her dad about this. Maybe it would be okay to start sharing more with him, instead of trying to handle everything by herself. She looked down at her hands. "My hands get shaky and sweaty. My scar has started hurting lately when it happens. And my brain…" she trailed off as she considered her words. She shrugged. "It does weird things. Like today, my brain had me thinking I was back in the cabin. I felt the pain in my head and the dried blood. All the smells and sounds were exactly what they were when I was there." She looked back up at him, blinking away the tears in her eyes. "I don't like experiencing them and I don't like not having any control over them."

_Spoken like a true McGarrett. _Yet another way in which Alex reminded him how much she took after him. He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the temple. "I know it's tough and I don't like that you have to experience panic attacks either, Sweetheart. But I am so proud of you for telling me about them. No one should ever have to deal with this by themselves, especially you." Pulling her closer, he hugged her. "Whenever you feel one coming on I want you to let me or, if you are at school, let another adult know and they can contact me. I don't want you to feel like you have to handle this by yourself."

* * *

"Hey," Danny greeted, opening the front door of his ex-wife's house.

"Hey," Steve returned, ushering his daughter to enter the home in front of him. Standing in the foyer, Steve quickly studied his friend. Danny looked exhausted and stressed, with fear and concern etched into his features. "We wanted to stop by and see how you all are doing. How's –"

"I…" Danny ran an anxious hand through his disheveled hair. "I'm glad you're here," he told them both even though his eyes were focused on the teenager. "Grace isn't really talking to anyone and…" he trailed off, taking a seat on the bottom step of the staircase. It concerned the hell out of him and Rachel that their daughter wasn't speaking to anyone. Two nights ago, Grace had spoken to him when they had found her in the storage container but, ever since then, she hadn't said two words. Danny understood that his daughter had been through a traumatic experience – he'd watched it first hand with Steve's daughter – but to actually witness the withdrawal of Grace into herself, it scared the hell out of him. Danny looked at the teenager; if anyone could get through to Grace it would probably be her.

"Mind if I go check on her?" Alex asked him. Not only was she concerned about Grace, she was also concerned about Uncle Danny. She recognized the look on Danny's face as similar to the one her Dad had sported in the days after her own rescue from her kidnapping; Danny needed to talk to someone, preferably her Dad, who was also a father that had been through the same thing before.

"She's outside by the pool."

Alex exited and headed towards the back of the house. Reaching the sliding glass door that led to the lanai and the pool, she spotted Grace sitting on the edge of the pool, her head bowed and shoulders hunched over. Alex headed outside, closing the door behind her. Kicking off her flip-flops, she sat down next to Grace, her feet resting on the concrete as she rolled her pant legs up. "Hey," she greeted, dipping her legs into the water once her pants were rolled up.

"Alex!" Grace greeted enthusiastically, turning slightly to throw her arms around the older girl. Ever since yesterday she had wanted to see Alex but she hadn't told her parents that because she didn't want to hurt them by saying that she would rather talk to her friend than to them.

Alex dropped a kiss to the top of Grace's head, letting the ten-year-old hug for as long as she desired. She didn't push Grace to talk; she would talk when she was ready. After several minutes, Grace pulled away and started moving her legs back and forth in the water. "Were you scared when the bad men took you?"

Alex studied the younger girl's face, understanding what Grace hadn't said. "Yes," she said with a nod. Referring to Grace's unspoken words, she added, "Still am sometimes."

"Really?"

Alex nodded again. "I didn't like it at first but I've learned that it's okay to be scared sometimes."

Grace was quiet for several moments. "I'm still scared, too." Tears filling her eyes, she looked at Alex. "What if the bad man comes back to get me again?"

Alex wrapped a loving arm around Grace. "That man is going to jail for a long time."

"So he can't get me?"

"Nope," Alex said, hoping that her words wouldn't end up being a lie. The man who took Grace would hopefully never have a chance of getting out of jail any time soon.

They sat there for several minutes, neither one saying a word, until Grace finally asked, "Do you tell anyone when you get scared?"

_Probably not as often as I should_, Alex thought to herself. Of course, she wasn't going to tell Grace that. Instead, she'd settle for a half-truth by not answering the question directly. "It's okay to let people –"

"Mom cries every time she hugs me and Danno keeps saying he's sorry," Grace interrupted.

"Well," Alex replied. "In that case, if you don't want them to know you're scared then you can tell me. Or my Dad."

"Do you tell Uncle Steve when you are scared?"

"Sometimes," Alex answered truthfully. "But sometimes I tell your Dad or Chin or Kono or Catherine." Alex looked down at Grace, locking eyes with her. "It's just really important that you tell an adult when that happens." _Don't end up like me, Grace. Don't hold it all in. Don't fall to pieces by trying to be strong all by yourself. _"Okay?"

Grace nodded. "So it's okay if I call you when I'm scared?"

Her Dad would probably prefer that Grace not contact her when that happened – it was very possible that it could trigger bad memories and/or a panic attack – but Alex had made a promise to herself that she would share any anxiety she experienced with her dad. If that meant letting him know every time that Grace was scared, then so be it. She'd serve as the go-between for Grace and any adult. "Of course, it is." Giving her a smile, she added, "You've always been able to call me whenever you want. You don't just have to be scared to contact me."

"Okay," Grace said. The smile on her face quickly gave way to a frown. "Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does Danno keep saying he's sorry?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know for sure but, you know, Dad's do everything they can to keep their kids safe and when something happens –"

"But it wasn't his fault," Grace interrupted.

"I know," Alex told her. She shrugged. "Maybe you could try telling him that." As she let Grace think about her comment, she took the ball chain off from around her neck. Undoing the clasp, she slid one dog tag off and then the medal, setting that in her lap before returning the dog tag to the chain so that it joined its mate. She put the chain back around her neck. "Here," Alex said, holding the gold medal out for Grace to take from her.

"What is it?"

Alex smiled, remembering the moment when she had been given the medal. She doubted that the person who had given it to her ever intended on his daughter becoming a recipient of it. "It's a medal of Saint Anthony. He's the patron saint of lost articles and a friend of mine gave that to me after I was found safe. He said that, when I was missing, he prayed that I be found." Uncle Danny rarely talked about his spiritual and religious beliefs. Whether or not he truly believed in the intercession of saints – she, herself, was not Catholic or a largely spiritual person – it did bring some comfort to her when she remembered that he had fallen back on his Catholic upbringing during the time that she had been missing. Smiling at Grace, she added, "I prayed that you were found safe, too."

"And it worked."

"And it worked," Alex echoed.

"Cool!" Grace said, handing the medal back to Alex.

Alex shook her head. "It's yours now. We'll go find a chain to put it on and you can wear it. Maybe that way, when you do get scared, you can think about Saint Anthony and how you are no longer lost."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, everyone, please leave a review with an answer to the following: if you could describe Steve McGarrett in ONE word, what would it be?**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Wow! Over 200 reviews for this story! You all are amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Before I get into the thank you's - this chapter really shows the dichotomy that is a teenager. Sweet/loving one minute and rebellious/angry the next. Hope you enjoy!**

**First off, thank you for everyone who offered one word to describe Steve. Absolutely loved what you all came up with! And thank you for the overall consensus that the last chapter was not as horribly written as I felt it was – I am my own worst critic!**

**Francis2 – Thank you. I was afraid that I had failed in showing how they were all affected by Grace's kidnapping. I'm pleased to know that the emotions of it all did shine through the writing. Thanks again!**

**Lynnrxgal – Haha, S'more! Absolutely LOVE how you chose to describe him and it's so true! Steve really is "hard on the outside, soft on the inside"! Thanks!**

**JMReagan – Thanks. I had hoped (but again felt I did a horrible job with) that it would become clear to everyone that Alex's pain and crappy life experiences allow her to be a great friend who is very caring and empathetic. In fact, I think her ability to understand others pain allows her to deal with her own pain.**

**Pinkphoenix1985 – Intense is also a very good word to describe Steve. I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. Thank you for reading and reviewing! Oh, and, yes there will be more canon in the story!**

**Cathyfromohio – Great word choice! Steve definitely is focused, isn't he? Don't think anyone could dispute otherwise. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!**

**NYR88 – I think it's hard for Alex to truly imagine having a "real" family. Her parents were never married, her mother's selection of a husband was lousy, and her it took her father seven years to admit that he loved Catherine. It would be really great if she got a mom and a sibling or two at some point, wouldn't it? Thanks for your review!**

**LoveRnB – Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing! You are one of my most loyal readers! Truly appreciate you!**

**JAJ101 – Great word to describe Steve! He is definitely always on alert, has ears like a bat, and I think he is ALWAYS running on adrenaline. There definitely is no off button to him. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Tessab – You're welcome and thank you. Hope you enjoy this chapter ;)**

**FicreaderT – Thank you! Again, I am my own worst critic (as everyone is, I suppose). Honorable is a great word to describe Steve. Thanks, as always, for your kind words and loyal readership!**

**SGFluteGirl – Stoic definitely could be a way to describe him. Thanks!**

**Gear's Girl – Thanks. Glad you enjoyed the Grace/Alex part because I personally LOVE the sisterhood that has developed between them. Loyal is definitely one word I would use to describe him too. Thanks again!**

**Plws – Yes, Steve definitely is awesome! Thanks for reading!**

**Allie – In response to your review in chapter 22 – hope you enjoy this chapter ;)**

* * *

"She's going to be okay, Danny," Steve assured his friend. "I'll tell you the same thing you told me when Alex came home: just be there for her. Be there no matter what. I know it's hard when your kid turns mute but be there for her through the silence. Be there when she starts talking again. Be there for the tears and the fear, the questions and doubts." Locking eyes with Danny, he continued, "She'll be okay, Danny, you just gotta believe that."

As if Grace had been listening to their conversation and wanted to prove to Danny that her Uncle Steve was right, Danny swallowed whatever he was going to say when he heard his daughter's voice for the first time in 36 hours. "Danno!" Her shout was joined by the sound of her shoes pounding on the floor as she ran towards them. Reaching them, she greeted, "Hi, Uncle Steve!" before practically throwing herself into his lap to hug him. Returning the girl's hug, Steve glanced at Danny and then at his daughter who was approaching them at a leisurely pace from the back of the house.

"Look at what Alex gave me, Danno," Grace said, moving out of Steve's embrace to embrace her father. She opened her right hand, showing him the gift that Alex had just given her. Recognition filled Danny's eyes, which flitted over to look at the teenager. She gave him a smile in return. Steve, who rarely missed anything, was confused by the unspoken conversation that was taking place between his daughter and Danny.

"It's Saint Anthony, Danno. He's the saint of lost things." Grace glanced briefly at Alex. "Alex said that a friend of hers prayed to Saint Anthony when she was missing and then she prayed to him when I was missing. Now we're both safe."

"That's great, Monkey," Danno said, placing a kiss on the side of his daughter's head. His daughter was talking again; the excitement in her voice brought a sense of calmness over him. He sent a look of gratitude over to Alex. "That was very nice of Alex to give that to you, don't you think?"

Grace nodded. Then, looking at Alex, she said, "Thank you. Can we go look for a chain for it now?"

"Sure," Alex said, giving into a laugh. "Why don't you go upstairs and I'll meet you in your room in a minute?"

With a nod of agreement, Grace squeezed between Danny and Steve and headed up the stairs. Once she was out of earshot, Danny looked at the teenager. "Friend?"

Alex grinned. "Friend, Uncle." She gave into a shrug. "One and the same, aren't they?"

"Wait a minute," Steve said, looking back and forth between the two of them with confusion on his face. "You gave her that medal?" he asked Danny. "And why have I never seen that before?" he asked his daughter.

"Yes, Steven, I did," Danny answered, not bothering to explain his actions to Steve. The whole team knew that Danny did not attend church regularly and that he didn't hold onto many of the traditional practices or beliefs that his Catholic upbringing had provided him. Yes, his daughter attended a Catholic school but he had agreed to that more to appease Rachel than anything else. Besides, Rachel was paying her tuition, so what did it really matter? Yet, that night all those months ago, that first night after Alex had been kidnapped, after he had left Steve at his house, he had chosen to fall back on some of those beliefs. So, he had pulled out the old medal that his father had given him for his Confirmation day and he prayed. Not just for Alex, but for Steve, too. Danny had never seen Steve like the way he had been that night; Alex hadn't been the only one who needed a miracle. Danny wasn't sure it was his prayers that had brought Alex home to her father but if the medal had given Alex – and now gave Grace – hope then so be it.

Steve stared at Danny with disbelief then turned his attention to his daughter. "Guess you're not very observant," Alex told him with a smile and a shrug. With that, she moved past both of them and headed upstairs to join Grace.

After she left, Steve just looked at Danny. "You –"

"Your kid is pretty amazing," Danny said, interrupting Steve. "You know that, right?" He didn't have any idea what Alex had said to Grace; it didn't matter. All that mattered was that his daughter was back to acting like that enthusiastic, happy little girl.

Steve sighed at Danny's change of topic. "When she's not breaking the rules, driving me up a wall, or doing something illegal?" Steve said with another sigh before breaking into a grin. "Yeah, my kid's pretty cool." With a glance at Danny, he then added, "Which is why I decided to do it."

Danny's jaw dropped open. "You – you're – do you have a concussion or something?"

"Why does that surprise you so much, Daniel?"

Danny gave into a laugh. "Seriously, Steven?" He shook his head. He couldn't believe it when, a couple of days ago, Steve had asked him for his opinion on the matter. If he thought Steve was crazy when he had proposed the idea, he thought he was even crazier now. "Since when does Steven J. McGarrett like dogs?"

"I never disliked dogs, Danny," Steve disputed. "I just don't like the ones that slobber, sit in the front seat of the car, or shit all over my office."

Danny laughed again. "You do realize that puppies aren't house broken?" He grinned at the thought of Steve bringing a live, energetic puppy into his home. "They are like babies. They poop, they pee, and they puke all without any warning. The only difference is that babies wear diapers."

"Yeah, well," Steve said, grimacing slightly at the thought of him coming home to piles of dog crap in his living room. "This dog will be different." He shrugged, still kind of surprised at himself for deciding to surprise his daughter with a puppy. "Besides, Alex has always wanted a pet _and_ it will teach her some more responsibility."

* * *

"A puppy!" Alex squealed, picking up the black Labrador puppy from the crate where the shelter had been keeping him. "You're buying me a puppy? What's his name?"

Steve shrugged. "He's yours. You get to name him." He couldn't help but smile at his daughter's excitement.

Setting the ball of fur down on the floor, she laughed when he grabbed a hold of her dad's pant leg and started tugging on it. "He's so cute. How old is he?"

"Eight weeks," Steve answered. He had come to this shelter earlier in the week to check out all of the dogs that were up for adoption. He hadn't really cared about breed but he had wanted one that was already house-broken so he had first looked at older dogs. But then, just as he was getting ready to leave and head back to the office, a man had walked into the shelter carrying the cutest puppy Steve had ever seen. After the man had left, Steve had inquired about the black Labrador and, after spending ten minutes with the dog, he knew that this dog was destined to become the next member of the McGarrett household. He wasn't even sure that he had picked the dog; rather, the dog had picked him.

Giddy, his daughter got down on the floor and started playing with the dog. Smiling joyously, Steve left the room and headed for the office to sign the adoption paperwork and write a check for one-hundred dollars. After doing that, he collected his daughter and new pet and loaded them in the car. On the way home, he reminded his daughter that she would need to take responsibility for the dog, cleaning up after him and training him. He told her that the dog was not a reward – in fact, her recent behavior had made him come very close to deciding that she shouldn't have a dog – and that she was still grounded for the rest of the semester. She had thanked him multiple times for finally giving her a pet and then had promised that she would take care of the yet-to-be-named puppy. As he approached the house, the dog had jumped into his lap and licked his face. As much as he insisted that the dog was his daughter's, he had a feeling that he would find himself just as attached to the little bundle of energy as his daughter had already become.

* * *

It had been one week since the little energetic, remarkably well behaved pup had been brought into their home and the dog still did not have a name. Steve had suggested a ton of names – traditional ones like Fido, Spot, and Spike as well as unusual ones such as Aladdin, Bullseye, Hermes, Kuroi and even ridiculous ones like Longboard, Danno, and Pôpoki – but Alex had not been particularly fond of any of them. He understood that she wanted to find a good name for him but, seriously, he was just a _dog_; it wasn't like she was naming a kid.

Due to being grounded, she had spent the morning at the office with him. He had been forced to yell at her twice – once for doing cartwheels down the hallway and once for bouncing a tennis ball against the glass walls of his office – and then finally, after finishing up case files, they had headed back to the house. They had gotten home twenty minutes ago; he had headed upstairs to shower while she had taken the dog out to the backyard. Now, after making peanut butter and banana sandwiches for both of them, he was headed outside to join her, sandwiches in hand. He heard her laughter even before he spotted the pair; she was tossing a tennis ball into the water and the dog was diving in to retrieve the ball and then shook water out all over Alex before dropping the ball back at her feet. Laughing, he plopped down next to her, handing her one of the sandwiches. Then, he stuck one hand into his pocket and pulled out a Milk Bone dog biscuit, not relinquishing it until the dog obeyed his command to sit.

Content with his treat, the dog abandoned his play time and lay down in the sand to eat his treat. Steve and Alex ate quietly for several minutes until Alex finally said, "Heleuma."

"What?"

"Heleuma," she repeated, her eyes focused on their pet. "That's his name. Although I think we'll use the English translation."

"You want to call him Anchor?" That certainly was an unique name for a dog.

"Seems like a good fit," she said with a shrug. Glancing at him, she explained, "Uncle Danny and Chin both suggested I name him after someone."

He gave her a weird look. "You know someone named Anchor?"

Alex laughed and shook her head. "No but I figured I thought I could name him after you and 'Steve' or 'Dad' isn't exactly a good name for a dog." As he chewed his last bite of sandwich, she explained, "I considered Kawikani, Kekoa, Aumakua, and Kapalekanaka but some of those are just a mouthful. Plus," she added, giving into another shrug, "while they all are good words to describe you, I think Anchor describes you best."

"I remind you of a large, heavy piece of metal?" He asked, not understanding her reasoning.

Alex laughed again before her face took on a serious expression. "No," she answered, her eyes leaving the dog to lock with his eyes. "Anchor as in stability in an ever-changing world. My life has been full of stormy weather and you're my anchor." She shrugged. "Sometimes our relationship is even pretty stormy but you're always solid and dependable. Someone who keeps me grounded." She gave into a laugh. "Or just likes to ground me."

At her words, he was forced to turn his head so that she wouldn't see the moisture in his eyes. Thankfully he didn't have to hide his face for too long because she stood up and said, "You'll watch him? I'm gonna go make us another sandwich."

After she left, Steve whistled for the dog which ran over to him, his tail wagging a mile a minute. Steve picked up the dog and held him out in front of him. "Anchor, huh?" He studied the dog's face. "She's our girl, okay, Anchor? Your job is to help me take care of her." When the dog wiggled free of his embrace and licked him on the face, Steve laughed and, taking that as a sign of agreement, he picked up the tennis ball and resumed the game of fetch.

* * *

Four weeks ago, Josh had asked her to the Winter Formal Dance. Three weeks ago, her dad had grounded her for the semester, thereby revoking his permission to allow her to go to the dance. Two weeks ago she had stopped fighting her dad over that decision. That was the night that she had decided to turn a new leaf, to change her ways and be a different person. Yet, here she was, three weeks after he told her she couldn't go to the dance, the same stubborn, rule-breaker that she had always been.

It had been the perfect plan and it had gone off without a hitch. She had managed to convince her Dad that Josh didn't want to go to the dance if she couldn't. So, instead, she – her friends had all joined in the deception – had told him that all of the members of Heart2Heart were going to meet at Seth's house to work on the flyers for the spring fundraising events. Seth had told his parents that he would be at Tracy's working on the project and Tracy's parents thought she was at Alex's for the night. Mr. Sullivan had also been told that Josh was at Seth's. It had worked: she and Josh had managed to still attend the dance. The dance had been absolutely wonderful and she definitely would have returned home by ten p.m. which was the curfew she had been given for the night.

That was, of course, until fate decided to deal her another shitty hand. Instead of being on her way home, with absolutely no signs of her having lied, at 9:45 on a Friday night, she found herself in the emergency room of Kapi' Olani Medical Center with an injured Josh. She knew there would be hell to pay as soon as her dad and Mr. Sullivan came back from speaking with one of the teachers who had brought them to the hospital; she was thankful for the fact that her dad did not believe in corporal punishment. Still, she had a feeling that her dad would extend the terms of her grounding; instead of the semester, it would probably be the entire _year_. Oh well, at least the dance – and everything that had happened in addition to the actual dancing – had made it well worth whatever punishment she was due.

Her Dad and Mr. Sullivan had arrived ten minutes ago and, after checking Josh's injuries, they both had proceeded to yell at them. Mr. Sullivan had laid into Josh about lying to him about where he was going to be and her Dad had yelled at her about once again breaking the stipulations of her grounding. He had even gone so far as announce to the whole room the reason for _why_ she had been grounded to begin with. She and Josh had not been given a chance to say anything in return before they had been called out into the hallway by Ms. Joyner.

Now they were alone again in the hospital exam room. Josh was seated on the exam table, holding one ice bag to his black eye and a second one to his busted lip. She, for once, did not have a single scratch on her; the smear of blood on her forearm had come from Josh's lip. The only sign that she had even been present during the fight was the small tear in the shoulder of her sleeveless dress, but even that was covered by the shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

"That's why you were grounded?" Josh finally asked, oblivious to the fact that the door to the room was slightly ajar. "Because you –"

He was interrupted by his father, who chose that moment to step into the room accompanied by Steve. "You knew she was grounded?" Jason asked, glaring at his son. "You knew Alex was grounded and you agreed to –"

"Josh didn't know," Alex interrupted, the lie coming easily. "And, yes, Josh, I'm grounded because I used my Dad's login credentials to find info on _my_ Mom." She hoped that the emphasis she had put on the word 'my' would tell him that he needed to keep quiet about the other information she had garnered three weeks ago.

"Alex," Josh started, not sure why his friend was trying to cover up the truth. He _had_ known that she was grounded – he had found out weeks ago right after it had happened. He didn't understand why she was trying to cover up for him.

"No, Josh," Alex said, sending him a subtle look that told him to keep quiet about everything.

Screw that. If she wanted to keep him from being forced to having a painful, emotional, and difficult conversation with his Dad, then he would let her do that. In fact, he appreciated that she was more than content with keeping secret the information she had managed to procure for him and it made him like her even more. But he absolutely refused to let her take the fall for something that they had both planned. "It's okay, Alex." He looked at his Dad. "She's trying to keep me from getting grounded but, yes, I did know she was grounded and we –"

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Steve asked, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared at his daughter.

_Everything always is_, Alex thought to herself when Josh answered for her. "No, Sir, it's not. We both did this. We both came up with the plan to get her to the dance even though you said she couldn't go anymore."

"You are grounded!" Jason told his son. "You are grounded and as part of that I think you two need to stop spending time together outside of school."

Alex and Josh's mouths dropped, surprise taking them over. "Dad!" Josh protested.

"No," Jason said, shaking his head. "You two seem to be a bad influence on each other."

"I agree," Steve said, narrowing his eyes at his daughter. To say he was disappointed in her would be an understatement.

"As soon as we finish figuring out what happened tonight," Jason told his son. "You and I are going to have a long talk and then your punishment will begin."

Angry, Josh said loudly, "What happened tonight is that I kept my promise to you and Mr. McGarrett." Hopping off the bed, he squared off against his father. "Would a bad influence have done that? I DON'T THINK SO!"

"Promise?" both Jason and Steve asked, questioning looks passing between the two. "What do you mean promise?" Steve asked the teenager.

"I promised you that if anyone tried to hurt her I would defend her even if it meant I get my ass kicked."

"Hurt her?" Jason asked, looking at Alex who, other than a smear of blood on her forearm that they had already determined to be his son's, looked perfectly fine. "What are you talking about?"

"Show 'em," Josh said, looking at Alex but nodding in the direction of their father's.

"Josh," Alex said, her tone reminding him that she didn't want her dad to know.

Josh shook his head. "Show them, Alex."

With a resolved sigh, Alex lifted the shawl that was draped around her shoulders, revealing her bare arms, one of which sported a bruise in the shape of fingers.

His anger momentarily forgotten, Steve stepped towards his daughter to get a closer look. "Who did this to you?" When his daughter just shook her head, he said, "Answer me, Alex."

"It doesn't matter who did this to me," Alex said, shrugging off his touch and covering her shoulders again with the shawl. "All that matters is that Josh is hurt because of the stupid promise you made him make."

Steve opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Josh. "He didn't have to make me promise, Alex," he said, stepping towards her and touching her on the arm. "I would have done it anyway. You're my –"

Steve was thankful for the knock on the door; he wasn't sure he was ready to hear the last part of Josh's statement. Even if he would just call her his best friend, Steve sensed there was a heck of a lot more to their relationship than just friendship. Both teens knew his rule that Alex could not date until she was sixteen yet he feared that they would somehow figure out a way to date without actually _dating._ "Ma'am," he and Jason greeted as the principal of their teenagers' school stepped into the room.

In Audrey Kamiya's hands were two items. "Given what happened tonight you were forced to miss the highlight of the evening. Seeing as how neither of you is to blame for what took place, I thought it important that you both receive these tonight instead of waiting until Monday." She placed a tiara on top of Alex's head. "Alexandra, your peers selected you as the freshman princess for Maika'i loa Academy's Winter Formal." Turning to Josh, she placed a crown on his head. "And, Joshua, you were selected as the freshman prince." She gave them both a smile. It really had not been of any surprise to her that these two teenagers were the one who had been voted for by their peers. She actually was predicting that in three years they would be selected as Prom King and Queen. "Congratulations."

"Um, thank you, Ma'am," Josh said. His look of discomfort was matched by an equal one from Alex.

"Yes," Alex agreed. "Thank you, Ma'am."

Principal Kamiya gave them another smile and then turned to face the men. "I'm not sure if you have been told the whole story yet but your children are not to blame for what happened tonight. Trust me when I tell you that the boys who initiated everything are going to receive the appropriate punishment."

"Thank you," Steve and Jason said, completely in sync as their gaze flitted past the woman and onto the teenagers.

"Excuse me," Audrey Kamiya said, her eyes focused on something in the hallway. "I need to go take care of something."

As soon as she stepped out of the room, Alex and Josh took the jeweled pieces off of their heads and tossed them on the exam table. "Glad that's over," Josh stated, grinning at Alex. Neither of them had ever been interested in being inducted into Maika'I loa Academy's 'royal' tradition. To them it was nothing more than a lame, misguided contest; one that they did not want to be a part of. If they had been given the opportunity to withdraw their names from the ballot they would have. "One minute of that crap on my head…"

"…was one minute too long," Alex finished for him, returning his grin. They broke out into laughter that quickly ended when their fathers started laying out the guidelines of their punishment.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me you were nominated?"

Alex shrugged, staring out the windshield of the truck. "Because it's a stupid tradition and I don't like being associated with it."

Not knowing what else to say – he had exhausted all of his energy yelling at her earlier – he stated, "Well at least the crown is nice."

"It's a _tiara_," Alex corrected. "Not a crown. And it's a cheap piece of metal that they probably paid way too much money for." She turned and reached towards the back seat, grabbing the offensive item. Holding it out as an offering for him, she said, "But, hey, if you like it so much why don't _you_ wear it."

Shaking his head, Steve gave into a sigh. With each passing second he was finding himself more confused and more irritated by her behavior. "I thought all teenage girls dreamed of being a princess or the prom queen of their high schools." Was his kid really this opposed to a high school tradition or was she just acting this way to annoy the hell out of him?

"You obviously don't know me at all."

Whether she had intended it to or not, her comment set him off again. "You know what, Alex? You're exactly right! Some days I do wonder if I know you at all. When you pull the shit that you did tonight it really makes me wonder about you." Looking at her as he put the car in park in the driveway, he continued, "Do you constantly think up ways to undermine my –"

"Why do you have to make everything about you?" She asked, angrily taking off her seat belt. "None of this is about you!"

"Alex –" He started as he followed her out of the car.

Standing on the edge of the yard, she screamed, "You ever think that maybe this is just me being a teenager?" She threw the tiara at him, hitting him square in the chest with it before he caught it. "I'm _fourteen_, Dad! Just let me be fourteen!"

* * *

"Wait," Catherine said, her voice finally coming through clear over what had been a bad connection. Steve had just told her that he had spent an hour last night sewing the shoulder of his daughter's dress – the dress that Catherine had found in a shop in Bangkok and had sent it for Alex's Christmas gift – that had somehow – he had yet to say how – become ripped. "Did the dress rip when she was trying it on? She sent me pictures of her in it but I didn't notice any rips."

"No," Steve said, his anger coming across in his tone. "My _rebellious_ daughter, who thinks it's _funny_ to break her _punishment_ and will _now_ no longer be spending time _with_ _Josh_ outside of school, decided to attend the dance at her school." He heard Catherine's intake of breath and decided to go into detail about the rest of the story, "Yep. Damn kid would have gotten away with it, too, if some punk ass upperclassmen didn't decide to harass her and a couple of other girls to dance with them. When one of the little bastards tore her dress and left a bruise on her arm, Josh stepped in to physically defend her." Rubbing a hand over his face, he added, "Josh took some pretty bad hits but he managed to break one of the kids' nose before the fight was broken up."

The sound was muffled but Steve could hear someone talking to Catherine. When she came back on the line, she said, "Sorry about that but something came up."

"It's okay," Steve told her, even though he was really starting to get tired of their long-distance relationship. Not being able to have an entire phone conversation with her without getting interrupted by her Naval Intelligence duties was starting to annoy him. He wasn't mad at her or the Navy for that; it was the nature of the job. Yet, since only one of them was still active duty, and he was seeing less of her now than he had when they were both stationed at Coronado, it was becoming more frustrating. He really just longed for the day when Catherine also decided to become a reservist; he just wanted the luxury of seeing her and talking to her whenever he wanted to.

"I'll call you later, okay?" Catherine said, her tone telling Steve she was partially distracted by something. "And I'll make sure to talk to Alex when I do."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do," Catherine stated in a way that told Steve it was futile for him to argue with her about that given topic. "Love you."

"Love you, too." After the line disconnected, Steve set his phone on the desk and rubbed his temples. After his daughter had stormed angrily up the stairs to her room last night, he had headed to the back door and called for Anchor – he had, of course, followed Alex to her room – to go outside. The dog had refused to come downstairs, finally venturing down excitedly after Alex had changed her clothes and accompanied him. Seeing him standing on the lanai, Alex had stated that Anchor was her responsibility, not his, so she would be the one to make sure he did his business one last time before bed. At that point it had been close to eleven so he had insisted on staying outside with them. She had not said another word to him the entire time they were outside and then she had ventured back upstairs, joined, of course, by Anchor. Knowing that her anger would be abated in the morning, he didn't dwell on their argument and, instead, went to the bathroom – not having a bedroom door meant she had to change her clothes there – and picked up her dress where she had left it on the floor. Then, he had headed back downstairs and, with a beer in front of him, had set to work fixing her dress. When she had come downstairs for breakfast that morning, she had thanked him when she spotted the dress hanging on a hanger from the top of the dining room door. After that she had returned to not talking to him. Now, she was banished to the conference room to work on her homework – without computer access, of course.

"Boss?" Steve looked up at the sound of Kono's voice. He ushered her into the office, gesturing for her to sit in the chair across from him. Once seated, she said, "It's about that thing you wanted me to look into."

"What'd you find?" As a result of knowing his daughter as well as he did, he had not missed the subtle changes of tone in Alex's voice when she had been talking to Josh last night at the hospital. Suspecting that it had something to do with her inappropriate and illegal use of the Five-0 computer network, he had asked Kono to try to figure out what else, if anything, his daughter had gathered information about.

"Is Jason related to a woman named Megan?" Kono asked, setting a stack of papers in front of Steve. The top page was a Washington State driver's license photo of a dark-haired woman. "Alex spent some time researching one other person; this woman – Megan Sullivan."

* * *

**A/N: I went to an American high school that was located overseas - we had "royalty" at Homecoming, Winter Formal, AND prom - so things may have been done differently there. I honestly do not know if the same can be said for schools in the United States. If not, if schools in the U.S. do NOT have "royalty" at Winter dances then please forgive me for that error. **

**A/N2: ****What do you think of Alex's choice of a name for the dog? Can you believe that Steve surprised his daughter with a puppy? What was the most surprising part of this chapter for you? **  


**A/N3: Kuroi – Japanese word for black**

**Pôpoki – Hawaiian word for cat**

**Heleuma – anchor**

**Kawikani – the strong one**

**Kekoa – the brave one, soldier**

**Ku'uaki – Guardian**

**Kapalekanaka- defender of mankind**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: WARNING: This chapter is shorter than most BUT it is an extremely sad chapter (at least for me it was) that answers questions about Megan Sullivan AND finalizes one storyline. My apologies in advance if you are unhappy with the decision I made in this chapter.**

**Thank you to everyone who left reviews and/or PM's for the last chapter. As always, please read and review this chapter and let me know what you like/don't like about how it turned out. Mahalo!**

* * *

"_Sir, Commander McGarrett is here to see you." _

"_Thank you, Sergeant," Jason said, looking up from his desk to the open door of his office. He stood when Steve, wearing civvies, stepped into the office, thanking the NCO as he did. _

"_Thanks for seeing me," Steve said, shaking Jason's hand. As they both took their seats, Steve commented, "Wow, nice office. Even if I had left the SEALS and gotten promoted to an 0-5 I doubt my office would have looked like this." _

_Jason laughed. "If this was the Air Force, my office would be six times this size," he said, only partly joking. It was well known that the Air Force had very different views of how to 'take care of' their personnel. In deployed settings, Air Force personnel lived in air conditioned tents and had access to high end amenities. During his deployment to Iraq, for the first seven weeks he had slept under a mosquito net on an outdoor cot and, after that, his unit had lived in a ratty old tent that had no air conditioning and, unlike their counterparts at the Air Force section of the FOB, did not have access to a swimming pool, basketball court, or gym with aerobic and weight-training equipment. The Air Force side of the FOB – which they did not have access to – housed a Burger King and Pizza Hut while all they had was a DFAC. Even in garrison, Air Force personnel had higher standards of living. Jason never once (and never would) complain about the Army; it was the life he chose for himself and he would never want it any other way. He absolutely loved the Army. The vast differences between the Army and Air Force were simply amusing at times. _

_Steve chuckled, choosing to extend the joke. "Your furniture would be updated every year and you would have a catering service bring you lunch every day." The men continued to laugh, lightly poking fun at the military counterparts they both loved and respected tremendously. _

_Turning serious, Jason said, "You said there was something important we needed to discuss."_

_Steve nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah." Expelling a breath, he leaned forward. "Look, Jason, there's no easy way to tell you this but Kono discovered something that I think you deserve to know." Steve really had no idea how Jason would react to what he was about to tell him. Steve sensed it would cause confusion, concern, and a reminder of the heartbreak Jason had endured several years earlier. "You know why Alex is grounded."_

"_Yeah," Jason said, studying Steve's face for any sign of what he was about to hear from him._

"_Well," Steve said, "Alex didn't just research her mom." Gesturing towards the manila envelope that he had carried into the office with him, he continued, "I don't know if Josh asked her to do it or if my daughter just decided it on her own but," he set the envelope on the top of the desk. Opening it, he said, "She also searched for your ex-wife."_

Thinking back on his conversation with Steve earlier that day was reason enough for Jason to grab another beer from the refrigerator. Popping off the bottle cap, he took a long swig and then headed to the living room to wait for his oldest son to get home from a classmate's house where he had been working on a class project. Ten minutes later, at 1930 on the dot, the front door opened and in stepped Josh. Closing the door behind him, Josh spotted his father and hesitatingly set his backpack down on the floor. "Everything okay?"

"Have a seat," Jason answered, sitting up straight in the chair and gesturing for his son to take a spot on the couch across from him.

"Um, okay," Josh said, looking at his dad with a curious expression on his face. Sitting down, he asked, "What's up?"

Jason set his beer down on the coffee table. "Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

Josh thought for a minute, not entirely understanding his dad's question. What did he mean was there anything that he wanted to tell him? What was his dad referring to? Why was he asking? "Um, no," Josh said, shaking his head. "I don't think so."

Jason studied his son, taking pride in the fact that he could still make Josh squirm after only a matter of seconds. Leaning forward, he picked up the folder – it was not the one Steve had given him but it did contain the same information – which he had placed on the floor by his feet. Setting it on the coffee table, he watched as his son's eyes filled with recognition. "Dad," Josh said with panic entering his voice as he stared at the red pocket folder that he had hidden under his mattress. "I – I can explain."

"You better start talking," Jason told him. "And don't you _dare_ lie to me because I –"

"Mom's in Olympia," Josh interrupted with the pain of knowing that his mother had been so close to them for so long being expressed in his voice. "She moved there." Anger flashing in his eyes, he added, "She lived 60 miles from us, Dad! For two years!"

* * *

"So, when did you say you'll be here?"

"Don't change the subject, Alex."

"Catherine –"

"Answer my question," Catherine told her, "Why do you keep testing your Dad?"

"I…" It was useless to deny it; Catherine knew her too well. She had been testing her Dad since the day that she moved to Hawaii, constantly pushing the boundaries and crossing the line. She really didn't know the exact reason for her behavior; even when she promised herself to be better, she still found herself testing him. Alex sighed. "I don't really know."

"We've talked about this, Honey," Catherine reminded her gently. "Testing him only –"

"Maybe it's because he wasn't around for two years," Alex interrupted, stating the only explanation that made any sense to her. "Maybe my subconscious is paying him back for everything he missed out on. Maybe I never really learned my limits with him because for so long it was just Mom and me." Even then she never really had any limits; as long as she kept her mouth quiet and covered her tracks, she had been able to get away with nearly anything.

"Maybe," Catherine replied, not necessarily agreeing with her but at least Alex was actually thinking about her behavior. "But you have to realize you can't keep doing this. You should have learned the limits by now." Catherine continued to talk, needlessly lecturing the teenager for the umpteenth time until, out of nowhere, she was interrupted by Alex.

"My mom stopped loving me." She expelled an uncomfortable breath. "Maybe – maybe I wanted to see what would make my Dad –"

Catherine's heart ached, as it always did, at the mention of Cindy and how much she was responsible for so much of Alex's deep held pain. "Your Dad is never going to stop loving you. He'll get mad at you and he may yell but he will _never_ stop loving you."

* * *

"I hate her, Dad," Josh said, running a hand through his hair. "Not for what she did to me but because of how much she hurt you and Sam." He shrugged. "Thing is, though, as much as I hate her for what she did – as much as I don't want to see her ever again – I still think about her and I worry about her. I know I –"

"Josh," Jason started, a little surprised at how open his son was being about his feelings towards Megan. Even after the year of counseling – after Josh's anger and tendency to self-harm had subsided – Josh had never truly expressed very much in regards to what his mother had done. Megan's name had rarely been mentioned by any of them in the last two years.

"Please, Dad," Josh pleaded. "I know I shouldn't worry about her and some days I don't. Some days I don't even care if she's alive anymore because she stopped caring about our well being that day at the police station but I…" He shook his head, trying to clear it of the memories from that humid day in North Carolina. "When Alex's mom came back, it made me start thinking about Mom and I wanted to know where she was."

"So you asked Alex for help?"

"Not at first," Josh answered truthfully. "But when I couldn't figure out which Megan Sullivan was her – there are a _ton_ of them – I –"

"You asked her to do something illegal," Jason stated.

Josh shook his head. "No, she had already started searching for her Mom when I asked her for help." Relaxing back against the couch, he added, "If it helps matters any, she was concerned that I might end up hurt by what we found out." True to the claim she had made several months ago, she had expressed her concerns but had then supported him in his decision.

Jason studied his son carefully, allowing him to squirm uncomfortably for several long seconds. "And?"

Josh laughed uncomfortably. "And Alex was right." Staring at his mother's picture, he said, "I'm hurt by everything I found out. I hate that she threw you, Sam, and me away like trash but then she decided to have another kid a year ago. I hate that she lived so close to us for two years and we never knew it. I hate her. I hate myself for hating her." He swiped the back of his hand across his eyes, brushing away the tears threatening to spill over his eyelids. "I hate that I didn't listen to Alex when she told me I would probably end up hurt." He looked at his dad again. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you or Sam to ever feel the way I am after knowing all of this."

* * *

As he made the final turn onto their street, Steve glanced in his rearview mirror, making sure the rental car was still behind him. Nothing in life had ever prepared him for what he was about to do. Nothing in the world could make it easier on any of them; this would be one of the most difficult things he would ever be forced to do. He blinked away the moisture from his eyes, knowing that he had to be strong. Once parked in the driveway, the feeling the rapid beat of his chest and the sense of nausea forced him to hesitate for several long minutes before getting out of the car. "Give me a few minutes and then come find us in the backyard."

Leaving their visitor in the front yard, he headed into the house, calling for his daughter. Not getting a response and noticing that Anchor was nowhere to be found, he headed to the backyard. Stepping onto the lanai, he heard his daughter's laughter joined with the happy yip of the puppy. Watching them play in the surf, he lingered there longer than he intended to. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he yelled for her and was soon joined by a smiling Alex and an excited, tail-wagging Anchor. Alex's eyes drifted past him and immediately she sped past him, yelling: "Jeff!"

"Hey, Kid," Jeff greeted, returning the teenager's hug.

"When did you get to Hawaii?" Alex asked him before looking down at Anchor who was jumping against her legs. "Sit, Anchor." She smiled when he obeyed her command; he was a fast learner. She looked back at Jeff. "Did you find my Mom?"

Jeff nodded, glancing at Steve. "I did and –"

"There's something we need to talk to you about," Steve said, his hands resting on the back of one of the patio chairs. Gesturing towards the dining table, he continued, "Let's sit down."

Not liking the tone of his voice, however subtle it may have been, Alex looked at her dad curiously as she followed him into the house and took a seat at the table. Taking the seat next to his daughter, Steve commanded Anchor, who had started pawing at his leg, to sit again and then told him to stay. "Jeff and I need to talk to you about your Mom."

Alex diverted her eyes from her dad so that she was looking at Jeff. "Is she in Prague?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, you were right about Prague."

"She's okay then?"

Steve rested his hand on top of his daughter's. "Something happened, Sweetheart," he began. "There was an accident and she got hurt."

"An accident?" Alex asked him, her eyes roaming back and forth between her dad and Jeff. "Was it an accident or did someone hurt her?" Catching the extremely quick look that passed between them, she answered her own question. "Someone… someone hurt her."

Steve took a deep breath as he considered just how much to tell her. Deciding to be as truthful as possible – he would spare her certain details – he said, "Yes, someone hurt her, Sweetheart."

"Was it –"

"They don't know who it was, Alex," Jeff interrupted, sparing Steve the pain of having to answer. "Someone found her and she was taken to the hospital."

"Is it bad?"

_Worse than you have ever imagined, Sweetheart, and I wish I didn't have to tell you what I'm about to._ Steve swallowed the lump in his throat and squeezed his daughter's hand. After a quick glance at the man who had just brought him the news an hour ago, he answered, "Mom was hurt and she – they did everything they could but they…" he trailed off so he could clear his throat. "I'm so sorry, Sweetheart, but they couldn't save her." It went absolutely quiet then; even Anchor's tail stopped slapping the leg of chair. As he watched his daughter, the sound of his heartbeat grew steadily louder and faster in his head.

"Mom," Alex said, her eyes glazed over with tears. "She's – Mom died?" She blinked away the tears and looked at Jeff. "When's her funeral?"

Jeff glanced uneasily at Steve and then returned his attention to the teenager. "Your stepdad… David… he, uh… I don't think he's having a funeral." David had arrived in Prague two days after he had contacted him to let him know that Cindy had been stabbed. Jeff had stayed in the city doing what he could to help with the investigation into her attack. With Cindy doing better – she had been brought out of the medically induced coma – he had made plans to return stateside, traveling over the Asian continent on his way to Hawaii. His plans were to, upon arrival in Honolulu, to update Steve on Cindy's status. Yet, upon checking his phone as soon as his plane had landed, Jeff had been heartbroken to learn in a voicemail from David that Cindy had stopped breathing; rescue attempts were unsuccessful. When Alex didn't say anything, he added, "He had your Mom cremated."

Staring at a spot between the two men, Alex stated, "She was claustrophobic. She always said that when she…" Sniffling, she trailed off and then, before either of the men could react, she was up and running out of the house.

When Jeff rose to go over after her, Steve said, "Let her go." Cradling his head in his hands, he explained, "This is what she does – she runs."

"You're not going to follow her?"

Steve shook his head. "I know where she's going."

* * *

Only Alex wasn't at the cemetery.

Jeff had finally left about twenty minutes after Alex's departure, expressing his heartfelt sympathy as he did. Steve had allowed himself only five minutes of grieving before Anchor's whining and scratching at the front door had compelled him to pick up the dog and go find his daughter. The rain had picked up when he was halfway to Punchbowl. As if the weather wasn't symbolic enough of what they were all feeling, Anchor's behavior seemed to indicate that he could sense Alex's grief; Steve had allowed the puppy to relax on his lap while he drove. Expecting to see Alex huddled over in front of his father's grave, he had been completely shocked to see that she was not there. His focus was blurry from tears as he drove to the next place he thought his daughter might be. As a result of his own grief combined with his concern for Alex, he was completely oblivious to the fact that his phone was set on silent.

Alex wasn't at the Sullivan's.

She wasn't at Danny's.

He had driven to Kono's but the driveway had been void of her car so he didn't bother stopping.

She wasn't at her school.

She wasn't at Chin and Malia's.

Alex wasn't at Headquarters or at her usual spot at the Aloha Tower Marketplace.

She hadn't gone to Lori's or Max's either.

Having run through his entire list of where she may have gone, Steve pulled over on the side of the road and put the car in park. The engine idling, Anchor's big, sad eyes looked up at him and he petted him. Looking out at the rain that was striking the passenger side window, Steve noticed a flash of light out of the corner of his eye and, looking down, spotted his phone. Grabbing it, he saw that Kono was calling him.

"McGarrett," he answered out of habit.

"Boss," Kono greeted. "Where have ya been, brah? I've been calling you for the last hour."

"Can't really talk, Kono," he replied as he continued running a hand down Anchor's back. "I'm looking for –"

"Alex," she interrupted. "I know and that's why I've been calling you." Sensing his confusion, she explained, "She's here. I've got her. She's safe."

* * *

The sight that greeted Kono when she opened her front door was heart breaking. Steve, hair and jacket drenched from the storm, holding Anchor against his chest inside the jacket, had eyes that were red-rimmed and full of grief. "I –"

"It's okay," Kono said, ushering him inside her house. She took his jacket from him but he insisted on continuing to hug the sleeping Anchor to him. "Her clothes are still in the dryer," Kono told him, speaking quietly as she watched as his eyes fell on his sleeping daughter's form on the couch. "She showed up sobbing and soaking wet and…" Allowing a small sob to escape, she said, "I am so sorry, Steve."

"Me too," Steve whispered, his voice tearful. "Cindy didn't – Alex – I…" he trailed off, the words failing him.

"She doesn't want to talk about it," Kono told him, thinking back to the exhausted, heartbroken girl that had practically collapsed into her arms just over an hour ago and the short conversation they had before Alex had fallen to sleep. "Even if she refuses to talk about it, she'll let you know what she needs." She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "She knows she needs you and she knows you'll be there for her. She just –"

"Needs time," Steve finished for her, his eyes having never left the couch. Feeling the dog stir in his arms caused Steve to glance at Kono. "Thanks, Kono. I appreciate it more than you know."

"Anytime either one of you need something, I'll be here," Kono replied, giving into a small smile before leaving him to go tend to his daughter.

Steve whispered something into Anchor's ear, with one word causing the dog to perk up his ears. Then he walked them over to the couch, gently settling his weight on the edge of the couch. As he did, Anchor, recognizing the girl on the couch, started to squirm excitedly in Steve's arms, his tail thumping strongly against Steve's chest. His grip firm on the dog, Steve called his daughter's name quietly as he attempted to wake her by placing a hand on her leg and shaking her. When she stirred and opened her eyes, she looked up at him and, without saying a word, jumped into his arms where she allowed her face to be licked by the puppy while she listened to the sound of her dad's heart beating loudly in his chest.

* * *

Never having quite fallen back asleep after crying into her pillow for nearly an hour, Alex rolled over and stared out the glass of the partly open balcony door. The rain storm had helped to cool things off and the chilly breeze was a welcome guest. As her body fully relaxed, her senses picked up on the sound of her dad's voice, floating upwards from the lanai into her room. She knew she wasn't supposed to eavesdrop but the pained sound of his voice made her listen to his slow paced conversation.

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Catherine assured him; the quiet tears that she was shedding matched the ones that had been in Steve's voice when he had first called her ten minutes ago. "You're allowed to be affected by this. You're –"

"My daughter just lost her mother," Steve interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alex doesn't deserve this," he said, choosing to not address the fact that he was an emotional wreck right now. "Cindy didn't deserve to die. Not like this. And my daughter… fourteen is much too young to lose your mom." And he would know – he hadn't been too much older than that when his own mother had been stolen from him. He knew how painful it was to lose your mother. It just about killed him to know that Alex had also lost her mother to violence.

"Steve," Catherine started to say, wishing her leave could have started yesterday instead of starting in six days.

"Cindy and I didn't get along," Steve stated before clearing his throat. "That was no secret. So why…"

"She's still your daughter's mother, Babe," Catherine reminded him. "You are allowed to be upset by her death. You are allowed to grieve."

"I'm sorry," Steve said again. Catherine had probably not been the best person to call about this. Here he was, talking to the woman he loved while being uncharacteristically emotional about a woman that he used to love. That wasn't fair to Catherine.

"No, Babe, you don't have to be sorry," Catherine said. "You used to love Cindy. She gave you Alex. Don't ever apologize for grieving over her death."

Steve opened his mouth to reply but stopped when Alex, hugging Anchor to her, practically crawled in his lap. Once she settled herself there, sitting sideways with her legs dangling over the side, she rested her head on his upper chest. Wrapping his arm around her, he placed a kiss to the top of her head.

Hearing him murmur something, Catherine asked, "Is that Alex?"

"Hi, Catherine," Alex's quiet and tired voice greeted affectless.

"Hi, Honey," Catherine returned before saying, "Steve, I'll let you go."

Wrapping her fingers around her dad's wrist, she brought the phone closer to her. "No," Alex said, "you can keep talking. I just want to be here with both of you."

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry! I had to do it! I had to kill Cindy off in order for certain things to happen later on in the story. Please don't hate me! I realize that I could have gone into much more detail about her death but, honestly, it was too painful to write. Cindy was a lousy mother to Alex and just an overall not-so-nice lady but she was a character that my muse loved and, despite everything, she still was Alex's mother. It was difficult to write.**

**A/N2: Also, I hope nobody was offended that I poked a little fun at the Air Force! Please know that I have nothing but the utmost respect for my fellow Soldiers, Airmen, Sailors, and Marines! (Yes, that was me, for the first time ever, actually sharing publicly on here that I am a member of our Armed Forces.)**

**A/N3: What do you/think feel about Cindy's death? Anyone surprised by where Alex ended up to after running from her house?**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Originally this chapter was supposed to be longer but my muse went MIA on me a couple of days ago and, since I have family coming to town tomorrow for a couple of days, I wanted to leave you wonderful readers with **_**something**_** to read. Hopefully I make up for the shortness of this chapter with the next chapter after this (if my muse returns!). Also, this chapter is dialogue heavy so my apologies if that isn't quite your cup of tea!  
**

**Thank you's:**

**AnonGuest – Thank you for the compliment. I wish you had an account on here so I could thank you in a pm. **

**Tessab – No worries! Cindy's death is only going to bring Alex and Steve closer. She will not blame **_**him**_** for her death at all. (Notice the emphasis on the word "him" ;) )  
**

**Craftygirl – You don't need to apologize! You're going through some rough stuff right now and this story means **_**nothing**_** compared to that. You take all the time you need and if you ever need someone to vent to or talk to, let me know. I am keeping you and your family in my prayers.**

**Pinkphoenix1985 – You have no idea how amazing it is to see how long your reviews are! Yes, I'm sure that if Catherine was in town, Alex would have ended up at her place. Their relationship is something spectacular and Catherine really is (even if Alex doesn't realize yet) the mother figure that she never really had growing up. I hesitated including the Josh/Jason conversation just because neither of them are part of canon but I'm glad you liked the reveal!**

**Gear's Girl – I loved that line, too! I'm not sure Alex quite understands what Catherine is to her just yet but yes, the three of them certainly are a family! **

**JAJ101 – Thanks! Lately I have felt like I'm losing steam due to my muse deciding to suddenly take vacation at the most inopportune times! Maybe it's just because of my crazy workload that my muse is giving me the rest I need. **

**FicreaderT – Exactly! Steve and Alex are going to become much closer as he is the only person she knows who has experienced the same thing. Of course (*wink wink*) that is going to cause some tension when Doris walks back into her dad's life. Catherine certainly is a part of their family, isn't she? Thanks for your review! **

**Francis2 – Nope, Steve is not going to pursue the people who attacked Cindy. I can promise you that. Catherine and Alex absolutely ADORE each other and I think it's going to make for a pretty amazing relationship down the road. Thanks for reading!**

**Narwhayley – I will try to oblige your requests, LOL! Can't promise too much (especially with Lori since the next episode is when she leaves 5-0) but I will try. It was a sad chapter but Cindy's death will give Alex some closure and give her time to heal properly. Thanks for reading!**

**Sunny irish – Yeah, it was quite sad but it leads to much healing and will bring Steve and Alex much closer. Yep, Alex runs when she's upset – that physical exhaustion that she strives for when she's hurting is something she gets from her dad. Thanks for reading!**

**Maggiemcgarrett – Yes, Catherine is definitely the mother figure that Alex never really had. Of course, I'm not sure Alex realizes that yet and maybe Cath doesn't either. The three of them becoming a family is definitely an option; we will see what my muse has to say about it! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**JM Reagan – You and I have already discussed the chapter but thanks, as always, for your review! Cindy's death will definitely provide closure for Alex. **

* * *

Stifling her yawn with a hand over her mouth, Alex made her way down the stairs. As she quietly made her way to the kitchen, she stopped when she spotted her Dad sitting in the dining room, facing the backyard. His shoulders were slumped and his head was bent as if he was looking at something on the table. She moved softly across the wooden floor, stopping when she just crossed over into the dining room. The first sign that her Dad was not doing very well was that he had given absolutely no indication that he had even heard her enter the room. The second sign was the sniffle she heard come from him before he sat back in the chair and stared straight out the glass into the backyard. Taking two small steps further into the room, she spotted the item that had been the source of her dad's distraction: the picture of her, him, and her mom that had been captured the day she had become state cross-country champion only a few months earlier.

After Catherine had been forced to hang up the phone and, after bidding good night to her Dad at midnight, she had spent the rest of the night crying. Her head was now pounding and she felt dehydrated. As much as seeing her Mom's face in the picture made her want to cry, she was physically unable to shed anymore tears. She watched her dad for a long minute and it dawned on her, even more than it had last night when she eavesdropped on his conversation with Catherine, that her mom's death was hurting him, too. Maybe it was even worse for him; maybe he was thinking back to his own mom's death. Not saying a single word, she walked over to him and, hugging his neck, kissed his cheek.

* * *

"You sure you want to do this?" Steve asked, as they walked into the school. "It's okay if you want to take a couple of days off." They had just received the news of Cindy's death two days ago yet Alex still, despite barely having slept a wink since then, insisted on going to school today. Wanting to make this as easy on her as possible, he hadn't argued with her. Instead, he had made her a bagged lunch – he had also stuck a handwritten note inside the brown bag – and, after they took Anchor on an extra long walk, he had driven her to school. Of course, they were here early because he insisted on speaking with the Principal to give her a heads up on the situation and to ask her to notify him if Alex had a breakdown or anything of the sort.

"I think I need to do this," Alex answered, looking up at him. "I need to try to do this at least."

"Okay," he told her, reaching the front door and holding it open for her. "Remember if you need anything –"

"Go to the office and ask them to call you," Alex finished for him. It wasn't like she could just pull out of her cell phone and call him if she wanted to since it had been taken away as part of her punishment. Spotting Principal Kamiya in her office, Alex put a hand on her dad's arm and stopped walking. "Can I just wait out here for you?"

Seeing the unease in his daughter's eyes, Steve nodded. "Of course. Just have a seat and I'll be out in a few minutes. Then we'll head to the Cafeteria." One morning a month, the school offered a family breakfast that started an hour before the school day began. While for many families it was an activity they attended once every school year, he and Alex had yet to miss a single one. Attending these events always gave him a wonderful opportunity to meet her friends and their parents as well as proving to her that he was fully invested in and supportive of her.

Relieved that she didn't need to be in the room when her Dad told Principal Kamiya about her mom's death, Alex took a seat on the bench that she had become all too familiar with over the course of the last six months. Not because she was a trouble-maker – she saved that behavior for when she was outside of school – but because she spent far too much time getting hurt on school premises and working on Heart2Heart activities under the guidance of Principal Kamiya. She probably should have taken her Chemistry textbook out and started reviewing the chapter she had a test on in a couple of hours but, instead, she just stared at the clock and focused on the soft tick-tick-tick as the second hand moved around the black and white clock face. Time seemed to slow down as it always did when she watched the clock and it seemed like hours had passed before her Dad came out of the office.

When she stood up, she noticed that he had that look in his eyes again that told her he was struggling with what he had just had to do. Talking to Principal Kamiya had not been easy for him; he was hurting by her Mom's death, too. She allowed him to take her backpack, which he slung over one shoulder. As they left the office and turned right down the hallway, she tucked herself against his side until he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. For now that would have to suffice as a hug. When they reached the door of the cafeteria, she hugged him and said, "Can we get our food and eat outside? Just the two of us?"

* * *

As he stood at the Smart table, looking at pictures of their victim that Max had sent over, Steve couldn't help but think about his daughter and the new hole that now existed in his heart. After grabbing their breakfast and greeting a couple of familiar faces, they had headed outside to the courtyard, selecting a table on the far side. As they ate, they had reviewed the practice Chemistry test that she had taken the week before in an attempt to make the material fresh in her mind for that morning's exam. Seeing that she had incorrectly answered three questions on the practice test and still did not quite understand why, he had made sure to spend more time reviewing those questions with her than he did on the other questions. When he had said goodbye to her at her locker, after getting a lengthy hug from her, he had felt confident that she understood all of the material and, as long as she could keep her mind focused, she would more than likely walk away with an A on the test.

He glanced at his watch. Her exam should have finished about an hour ago. As much as he didn't like her missing school, with everything going on he really wished he could have convinced her to stay home. As it was, he wished _he_ could have stayed home from work. He'd always been good, or so he thought, of keeping his mind off of personal issues while at work. Of course, that had been easier to do when Alex was not living with him. Even still, he thought he had, for the most part, done a pretty decent job at focusing on work even despite whatever hell he and Alex were going through personally. But today the pain of Cindy's death was too raw and it seriously made him want to abandon their current case, drive to Alex's school, pick her up, and take her on a vacation some place, just so they could both focus on grieving instead of having work and school obligations also demanding their attention. Hell, at this point he would be happy if he could just go to her school and check up on her, to see how she was faring with everything.

When his phone rang and recognized the caller ID as Maika'i loa Academy, he had a feeling that his driving to her school wouldn't be for an unfounded reason. "McGarrett."

"Dad," Alex's anxiety-laden voice came over the phone. "Can you come get me? I –"

"On my way, Sweetheart." Covering the phone with his hand, he looked at Danny and Chin. "I need to –"

"Go," Chin told him. "Don't worry about this."

"We got you covered for the rest of the day," Danny assured him, his voice trailing after him as he hurried out of Headquarters.

* * *

"Here," Steve said, nudging his daughter's arm with the bottle of water he held in his hand. As he sat down in the sand next to her, Anchor ran up to him, tail wagging and giving him that look that told him he, too, was expecting something from him. Steve pulled a tennis ball out of his cargo pocket, showed it to the dog, and tossed it into the ocean. As his daughter finished eating her lunch – she insisted on eating the lunch he had packed for her – he bit into the apple that was the last uneaten item of his own lunch. As he resumed the game of fetch with Anchor, he left Alex alone with her thoughts as his mind was consumed with thoughts of his own.

When he arrived at the school, he found his daughter sitting outside of Principal Kamiya's office but it wasn't until they reached the car that she had allowed the tears to roll down her cheeks. He had hugged her until the tears subsided. When they did, she apologized for not being able to make it through the day and for calling him away from his case. She explained that everything had been going well and that she had been able to fully concentrate on her Chemistry test. Then, a new student had been introduced to her History class; a girl named Cynthia. At the mere mention of that familiar name, Alex had found herself starting to get emotional and, after telling her teacher that she needed to go see Principal Kamiya, had headed to the office to call him. After that, Alex had requested that they go back home and have lunch on the beach. He, of course, had been more than happy to oblige.

"It was her perfume," he finally said, breaking the silence after ten minutes.

"What?" Alex said, tearing her eyes from the sight of her water-loving puppy playing in the tide to look at her Dad.

"My mom," he answered, understanding that his daughter needed to know that she was not alone in what she was experiencing. "After she died, it was the smell of her perfume that served as a trigger." He hesitated for several seconds as he thought back to that day nearly twenty years ago. "Even now, if I walk by a woman who is wearing that same scent, it takes me back to the day she died and reminds me that the last time I saw her was that morning when she was standing in the bedroom spraying herself with her perfume."

Alex watched him for several long moments before asking, "When she died did it feel like you were being punched over and over again or like someone was ripping out all of your insides?"

"When my Mom died, it felt like the entire world was crashing down," he answered. Expelling a breath, he continued, "When she died, I felt like the best parts of me died with her." Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her tight against him. "It was only a couple of days later when Dad sent Mary and me away. So I guess, when she died, it was like my entire family died, too."

Hugging her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees and looked out at the water again. "It's never going to stop hurting, will it?" It was a dumb question. She still hurt from losing her grandfather and she doubted that hurt would ever go away. So, of course, it made sense that it would never stop hurting from losing her mom.

"I wish I could tell you that it will stop hurting but I can't," Steve told her, knowing all too well that some pains never went away no matter what you did to try to make them disappear. "Over time, the pain will lessen a little but there's always going to be a small part of your heart that will never quite fully heal." Brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, he continued, "And it might take a while but there _will_ come a moment when it stops feeling as raw as it does now. In that moment, the constant pain disappears and it will only return every once in awhile when something triggers a memory."

Alex turned her head to look at him. "What moment was it for you?"

Steve smiled. "You were born." He thought back to that day almost fifteen years ago. "I mean, I wished my mom could have been there to meet you but the second the nurse placed you in my arms… any pain I was feeling from missing her disappeared." His comment made her smile but it was quickly fleeting.

"Do you remember what the last thing she said to you was?"

Steve nodded. "Same thing she said every morning: 'Have a good day at school and make sure you remember to pick up your sister after school.'" His mother had died in the spring and, since football was the only sport he played, his spring semester consisted of him having to pick up Mary every day. He shrugged. "I don't think that's something I'll ever forget."

"So you never got to say goodbye either." His nod confirmed her statement. She picked up a handful of sand and let it squeeze between her fingers. "Do you wish you had the chance to?"

"Yes," he answered honestly. "But it does bring me some peace knowing that it happened instantaneously; she didn't have to suffer."

"Did my mom?" She looked at him again, tears in her eyes. "I mean, I know you said she got hurt but what happened exactly? Did she suffer?"

He didn't even have to hesitate to consider how much to tell her. From the moment he had learned that Cindy had been stabbed, he knew that he would not tell Alex the details. As she was his daughter, he knew that she would want answers for her mother's death and, one day, maybe he would tell her but that time wasn't now. Not now. Not yet. "Mom really wasn't aware of what was going on. She wasn't in pain."

"Good," Alex stated, sniffling as she swiped a hand across her eyes.

As he watched his daughter, who, in that moment, was petting Anchor's head which was resting in her lap – even in the short amount of time they had owned him, Anchor had become very much in-tune with Alex's moods, as if he felt everything that she did – he couldn't help but apply pressure to his breastbone with his fingers. It literally hurt him to see his daughter going through everything he had experienced when he had not been much older than her. Once the pain subsided, he placed a comforting hand on her back. "Do _you_ wish you had the chance to say goodbye?"

Alex nodded. "The last time I saw her, I left with a decision to make. Her or you. I picked you so I never got to say goodbye." Rubbing a finger along the patch of fur between Anchor's eyes, she looked at him, surprising him with her words. "I don't like that you're hurting from this, too."

Steve had to blink away the tears; the fact that his daughter was concerned about him despite her own grief was simply overwhelming. "It's no secret that your mom and I didn't get along for a long time but I did love her, Sweetheart. A part of me will –"

"Always love her," Alex interrupted. "I remember."

Steve nodded. "Your mom was my first real love." Even though most people believed that he, as starting quarterback of his high school football team, had an abundance of sexual experiences before being shipped off to the mainland, the truth was that he had not lost his virginity until he was seventeen, nearly eighteen. He and Cindy had been each others' firsts and she had been the only one he had slept with until she left him when they were nearly twenty-four. Cindy had been such a big part of his life for those seven years and, even though things had been downright nasty between them for the last few years, it pained him to know that she was gone. Even _she_ did not deserve to lose her life the way that she had. "She was your Mom."

"Yeah," Alex said, giving into another sniffle. "I'm sorry you lost your Mom," she said to her dad at last. "I wish you didn't have to know how crappy this feels."

* * *

"Josh told me you went to talk to his Dad," Alex said, setting the glass of water back on the table. After their long talk on the beach behind their house earlier, they had ventured back inside where she and Anchor proceeded to crash on the couch. When she woke up, it was a couple of hours later and her stomach was, surprisingly, growling. Wondering what her dad might want for dinner, she went in search of him, finding him asleep on top of the covers on his bed. On the nightstand next to the bed was a series of pictures, all of which included her mom and him; she was in a few of them. She had to forcibly swallow the sob that threatened to escape her before she roused her dad with a gentle hand on his arm and a loud whisper of his name. When she asked him what he wanted for dinner, he surprised her by offering to take her to Shark Cove's Grill for dinner. It had been a quiet drive to the restaurant but, now, as they sat there waiting for their food, she figured it was time to break the silence by choosing a topic that was not her mom.

Steve nodded as he gave her a stern look. "I was going to wait to talk to you about it but, since you brought it up, I know that you used my credentials to locate his mom."

"He asked me to, Dad," she replied, as if that would make the situation any better. "I warned him that he probably wouldn't like what I found."

"Yet you went ahead and did it anyway," he returned, his tone having a slightly angry edge to it. "_Illegally_, I might add."

Alex shrugged. "I had already used your login info once before that. Besides, it was his choice. My job, as his friend, is to support him and be there for him." When he released an annoyed sigh, she attempted to change gears. "Josh isn't doing real well with what he found out."

Steve sat back in the booth, studying his daughter as she toyed with the condensation on the glass. He had seen a copy of everything Alex had found about Megan and it still riled him to know that Jason's ex and the boys' mother had decided to have another child after abandoning her first two children because she didn't "want to be a mother any longer". The pain that Jason and the boys must be feeling right now was unimaginable. He feared that any progress Josh had made with his abandonment and anger issues would now return as a result of the news.

"He needs me, Dad," Alex said after a couple of minutes of silence between them. "And I need him." When she locked eyes with his, she continued, "We're not bad influences on each other like you and Mr. Sullivan think we are."

Steve expelled a breath before responding to her. "Josh knew that you were hacking into government systems using my login info. Yet, instead of being the type of friend to get you to stop before you got into trouble, he encouraged your illegal behavior by asking you to continue breaking the law by searching for his mother." He leaned forward again, his arms touching the edge of the table. "He knew you were grounded and, instead of obeying my punishment for you, he helped you to disobey and lie to me. That doesn't sound like a very good influence to me."

"He got beat up trying to protect me," Alex countered. "I don't know anyone else who would have done that. That's gotta count for something, Dad." She tilted her head slightly to the side and chewed on her lip. "Yeah, we've messed up a couple of times but no one's perfect and –"

"Look, Alex," Steve interrupted, knowing exactly where she was going with this. "I understand that you two have been through a lot together and that you understand each other better than a lot of people. And, yes, what Josh did for you the night of the dance was admirable but I still think you both need to spend a little time apart." Hearing her exasperated sigh, he continued, "You're both going through some things right now – some hard things – and I think it's best that you both heal a little before taking on each other's pain."

"We don't…" She trailed off, knowing it was pointless to try to argue with him. As it was, the waiter chose that moment to deliver their food: grilled teriyaki chicken skewer with brown rice for her and tri-tip steak skewer with brown rice for her dad. Her mouth watering just at the sight of the food, she dug into her dish, pulling a piece of chicken and red pepper off of the kabob and popping them into her mouth. Her dad must have been just as hungry as she was considering the speed at which he was shoveling the rice into his mouth. When she spoke again, it was several minutes into the meal. "Do you still have reserve duty next week?"

Swallowing a piece of steak, he answered, "I'm trying to get it rescheduled." A couple of weeks ago, the Navy had sent him a friendly email as well as left him a courtesy reminder that his required reserve duty needed to be scheduled sometime in the next two months. Knowing that Catherine had shore leave scheduled over Valentine's Day, he had gone ahead and booked his duty to coincide with her return to the Enterprise. At first, Alex hadn't been overly excited that he would be gone for a week but, after assuring her that he wouldn't be on a top-secret mission with the SEAL team, she had come to understand his duty as a Navy reservist.

"What?" Alex asked him, wiping her mouth with her napkin. "Why?"

"Because of everything going on," he told her. "It's more important that I –"

"You should still go," she interrupted. "I'm sad about mom but I'll be okay. I want you to just get your reserve duty out of the way now so we don't have to worry about it again for awhile."

* * *

**A/N: Question: if Steve were to take his daughter on vacation as a way of helping them both heal, where do you think he would take her? Second question: favorite line from this chapter?  
**

**Mahalo for reading and reviewing! **


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: So I promised to make up for the last, short chapter and I hope I have with this chapter! It's looooong (nearly 7,000 words)! Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (I know it wasn't as good as other ones). This chapter references episodes 2.16 (I Helu Pu or The Reckoning) and 2.17 (Kupale or Defender). I hope that I was able to seamlessly work Alex into the episode scenes that I included here. **

* * *

"I am so sorry about this, Cath," Steve apologized, his hand resting on her upper arm. Not even twenty minutes into the Governor's Charity Ball and Governor Denning had pulled him and Lori aside, taking them down to the laundry room in the basement, where the body of a dead female was found inside a laundry cart directly underneath the laundry chute. His evening with Catherine – she was only in town for 48 hours before heading back to the Enterprise – now ruined, he had headed back upstairs to corral his team and to apologize to Catherine.

"It's okay, Steve," she replied, messing with the tie that was undone and now hanging around his neck. "It's not your fault." Even though their original plans for the weekend had been to have dinner at a fancy restaurant before heading back to Steve's house to spend time with Alex, she had not been too disappointed about the sudden change of plans when the Governor had requested that all members of Five-0 attend his charity ball. As much as she didn't enjoy wearing high heels for an extended amount of time, she had still been looking forward to being able to spend time with Steve and his co-workers. Their plans had been unexpectedly changed again yet it wasn't Steve's fault that someone had chosen to kill a woman before their evening barely started. "Just call me when you're done and I will head to your place from the hotel."

"Hotel?" Placing his hands over hers, which were resting on his chest, he suggested, "There is no way I'm letting you stay at a hotel." Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he offered them to her. "Here. Don't let my case mess with your plans to do girl stuff with my daughter."

"Girl stuff?"

Steve shrugged. "Whatever it is you girls do when I'm not around: nails, hair, watch chick flicks."

Catherine laughed at him. "Okay, Sailor," she said, taking the keys from him. "I'll go enjoy talking about boys with your daughter."

Steve groaned as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Please don't encourage her." He placed a soft, chaste kiss on her lips. "Seriously, though, I think it will be good for her to see you." Alex needed as much love and support that she could get right now. It had only been a week since they had received news of Cindy's death and Alex was, to put it simply, an emotional wreck. She had tried to return to school every day that week but, like on Monday, he had received a phone call from her on both Tuesday and Wednesday requesting that he come pick her up. She had made it through the entire school day on both Thursday and Friday but, after speaking with a few of her teachers and guidance counselor, he had learned that she had not been as attentive in class as was normal. She was distracted and quiet, withdrawn and forlorn. In the evenings, when they were relaxing at home, she had been relatively quiet yet very clingy, hugging his arm when they sat on the couch and, in the mornings, she had insisted on accompanying him down to the water, joining him for the first time on his daily swims before they would run their usual six to eight miles.

"Okay," Catherine said again, kissing him lightly. "Be safe tonight."

Steve nodded. "Love you."

* * *

"Alex!" Catherine shouted as she closed the door behind her. She had expected to see the teenager in the living room, watching TV or playing with her puppy, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Catherine?" Alex's voice rang out from the upstairs bathroom. Looking up, Catherine spotted the teenager stepping out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel. Her damp hair was a mess, resembling something like a poorly fashioned braid. Behind her, from inside the bathroom, came running the puppy that she had been hearing so much about, both from Steve and Alex. "You're here early. Where's Dad?"

"He caught a case," Catherine said, giving into a laugh as the puppy ran ungracefully down the stairs and launched himself towards her. Squatting down, she pet the dog, allowing him to lick her face. "Hello, Anchor." Looking up at the teenager, she said, "You're right; he is even more adorable in person." Alex had sent her numerous photos of the puppy, each time expressing that she couldn't wait until Catherine could meet Anchor in person. "You, uh, need help with something?"

"Do you know how to French braid?" Alex asked her, relief appearing on her face. "I'm horrible at braiding my own hair."

Catherine nodded. "Go get dressed and I'll meet you back down here after I change out of this dress."

* * *

"What's wrong with you, huh?" Danny asked, shaking his head as he looked over at Steve who was, once again, driving his car. "Seriously, what is wrong with you?"

"I'm fine, Danny," Steve said, referring to the little dive he had taken off the roof of the hotel about twenty minutes ago after lunging after their suspect who was trying to kill himself.

"Fine!?" Danny expressed a little too loudly. "Fine? I don't think any therapist in the world would consider you 'fine', my friend."

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" Steve asked, not bothering to mask his annoyance. "I'm not hurt and I managed to keep our suspect from killing himself so now we can interrogate him." After lunging after Dennis, the two of them had landed on a balcony and, once he had been able to breathe again – the fall had knocked the wind out of him – he told Dennis he was wanted for questioning. Now they were following Chin to headquarters where, upon arrival, they would try to figure out how their victim was connected to Dennis.

"Because, Steven," Danny said with a sigh. "When you die during one of our cases because you do something stupid it will be me who has to break that news to your daughter."

"So first there's something wrong with me and now I'm dead?" Steve asked, shaking his head in annoyance. This evening was just continuing to get worse with every passing second. First, his plans with Catherine got ruined because of the Governor's demand that they attend the charity event. Then, those plans got ruined as well due to someone deciding to murder a woman and toss her body down the laundry chute. Now, here he was, stuck in a car as they made their way back to HQ, being forced to listen to Danny's ranting. He hoped to wrap this case up soon so he could go spend time with the only two people in the world that he wanted to be with right now: his daughter and Catherine.

* * *

Brushing the long brown hair of the teenager who sat on the floor in front of her, Catherine looked down at the calm puppy that was curled up next to Alex. "I can't believe how well-behaved he is," she commented as she set the brush down on the couch cushion next to her and began to separate Alex's hair into three sections. "Your dad told me that you've been working with him, training him to respond to commands, and it shows."

Alex responded but not in the way Catherine had expected. "Did your Mom used to do this?"

"Braid my hair?" Alex answered the question with a slight nod of her head. "Yes, she did. All the time actually because when I was little I always wanted my hair braided."

"Oh, okay," Alex replied. Catherine continued braiding Alex's hair, waiting in silence to see if Alex would offer anything else to the conversation. Reaching the end of the braid, Catherine tied it off with a hair tie.

"All done," Catherine said, scooting backwards on the couch. When Alex didn't say anything – she didn't even acknowledge that Catherine had finished braiding her hair – she said, "Alex?"

"All week I've been trying to remember normal things that my Mom and I did together." Waking up the dog as she did, Alex got up and sat down next to Catherine. "I don't remember her ever braiding my hair but I remember Dad doing it. He used to French braid my hair all the time when I would visit him." She remembered several occasions when her grandfather would pick her up from their apartment in Seattle and then they would catch a flight to San Diego. She remembered that her Dad would always comment on her hair – her grandfather was not very good at fixing it – and then, once they got back home, he would wet her hair before putting it into a braid. She even remembered getting compliments from ladies in the NEX or Commissary or at the park about how nice her hair looked. She wished she had memories like that of her Mom. "My mom died, Catherine," Alex said, her voice tearful. "And I don't have memories of her like I do of Dad." Swiping a hand across her eyes, she continued, "I want to remember her singing me to sleep like grandpa always said she did. I want to remember her and Dad dancing in the kitchen. I want to remember her taking me to the playground or having a tea party with me or any of the things I remember Dad or grandpa doing with me. I want to remember. Why can't I?"

When the tears started to fall, Catherine wrapped her arms around Alex. Sobs were quick to follow. Three hours later, only after a quick trip to the kitchen for two pints – lactose free vanilla for Alex and mint chocolate chip for her – of ice cream, spoons, and a bottle of chocolate syrup, Catherine found herself still on the couch, sitting with her feet up on the coffee table and watching a Lifetime movie on the TV, while Alex was fast asleep with her head on a pillow in Catherine's lap. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach had yet to go away but, then again, eating almost an entire pint of ice cream surely didn't help matters any. While Alex had cried earlier, she had felt so helpless. She couldn't answer any of Alex's questions nor could she provide any insight into things Alex had done with her mother when she was younger. Those were all things that only Steve could offer his daughter yet it had been made clear to Catherine that Alex had not told him that she couldn't remember certain things about her mom. If Steve ever made it back home before she left to head back to the Enterprise, she'd make it a point to let him know about Alex needing to know certain things about her mother. She'd make it a point to make sure Steve knew that he needed to share memories with her.

* * *

Standing in front of her dad's closet, she studied his Service Dress Blue uniform. She knew that it wasn't the uniform which he would be taking with him on his reserve drill but she had wanted to look at it anyway. She ran a finger over each ribbon, naming each one in her head as she did. _Silver Star. Bronze Star Medal (with Valor device). Purple Heart. Joint Service Commendation_. _Navy Commendation Medal. Joint Service Achievement Medal_. _Navy Achievement Medal. Navy Combat Action Ribbon. Navy Presidential Unit Citation. Joint Meritorious Unit Award_. _Navy Unit Commendation. Navy Meritorious Unit Commendation. Navy E (Battle Efficiency) Ribbon._ _Fleet Marine Force Ribbon. National Defense Service Medal. Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal. Afghanistan Campaign Medal (with three bronze stars). Iraq Campaign Medal (with two bronze stars). Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal. Global War on Terrorism Service Medal. Humanitarian Service. Navy Sea Service Deployment. Navy Expert Rifleman Medal, Navy Expert Pistol Medal._ _Special Warfare Insignia (SEAL Trident). Naval Parachutist._

Her dad had been a hard-working, dedicated, and respected Sailor and SEAL. She looked at his uniform at least once a month; looking at it always served as a reminder of how proud she was to be his daughter. Her Dad was a good man. He was honorable and brave. Strong and smart. He had faced more danger in his eleven years of active duty than most people ever faced in a lifetime. He had been injured more in those eleven years than most people ever were over the course of their life. Today, though, looking at his uniform served as a different sort of reminder: despite his duty and service to the Navy, despite traveling the globe for months at a time, despite not being in her life on a daily basis for nearly ten years, he still managed to provide her with more good memories than her mom ever had. That, more than anything else, was making it extremely difficult to deal with her mom's death.

"Alex?"

Turning her head at the sound of her name being called, she spotted her dad standing in the doorway of his room. He had fresh cuts on his face – one on his cheek and another above his right eye –and, seeing him like that caused her thoughts to stray from that of her mom to concern for him. "What happened?" She asked, standing up and rushing over to him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "I'm fine." His eyes sweeping around the room, they stopped on the black duffel bag that he had always carried with him on missions. It appeared to be partially full. "Did you pack for me?"

Alex nodded. "Yes," she answered with a glance towards the bed where the bag was sitting. Looking back at him, she studied the cuts on his face, noticing as well – and not for the first time – how thin his face had become ever since returning from North Korea. If she wasn't concerned about him before, this only added to it. She had even, a couple times over the last few months, asked him if they could take a vacation somewhere. She felt that he had never taken the time to deal with what had happened to him in North Korea and, as a result, the PTSD from that was affecting his body physically. As it was, she knew that he still suffered from the occasional nightmare about what had happened. Of course, every time she had tried to approach the topic, he had insisted that he was absolutely fine. Looking at him now, maybe it was time to express her concerns to Danny, Chin, Kono, and Catherine about it. Maybe they could get through to him like she had not been able to do. "Did the doctor say you are okay enough to still go on your reserve duty?"

"I'm fine, Sweetheart," he told her again as he walked over to his duffel bag. He never actually told the doctor that he was scheduled for reserve drill duty but the injuries he acquired after getting hit by a car outside of the Russian Embassy were not any he hadn't suffered from before. Even the cracked ribs weren't of major concern to him; he'd even participated in raids with his SEAL team while having cracked ribs in the past. Unzipping the bag, he peered inside, seeing an extra pair of NWU's and plenty of socks, undershirts, and boxer briefs for the next week. "Thanks," he said to her, before spotting an envelope tucked between two of the undershirts. "What's this?"

"Don't open it until you're on the plane," Alex replied, leaning against his dresser. "Or you can wait until you get to the Enterprise."

Steve gave her a curious look but replied, "Okay." He zipped the bag closed. "Your hair looks nice," he commented. "Haven't seen it braided in awhile."

"Thanks," she returned. "Catherine did it for me." Taking a stab at what the look in his eyes meant, she added, "She left about two hours ago. She said she needed to get her extra uniform out of the closet at the hotel." Even though Catherine had spent both nights of her leave at their house, she had still checked into the hotel upon her arrival on Oahu. Alex guessed that her dad hadn't thought about inviting Catherine to stay with them until _after_ she had checked into the hotel. Maybe he'd get it right the next time she had shore leave. "You never told her that you're still going with her, did you?"

Steve shook his head 'no' as he sat on the edge of his bed. "Are you sure you're okay with me leaving for a week?" Even though she had insisted numerous times over the last week that she would be okay without him for a week, he still had his reservations. Cindy's death was still very fresh and raw and the grief process still had a long way to go.

"I'll be okay, Dad," Alex said, sitting next to him on the bed. "Mom's …" she trailed off, not bothering to finish her thought. "There's nothing you can do to bring her back and I just want you to get this week over with so we don't have to worry about you being called away for drill duty for another year." Laying her head against his shoulder, she added, "Besides, you'll get to be with Catherine. I know how important it is for –"

"It's more important that I'm here for you when you need me," he interrupted.

"You said you'd call me every day, right?" When he nodded in agreement, she continued, "Good." She lifted her head and kissed him on the cheek. "Go, Daddy. I'll be okay."

* * *

"Hey, Sweetheart," Steve greeted into the phone. Hearing his daughter's cheerful greeting in return brought a smile to his face. "How are you? How was your day?"

"Good," Alex replied. "Better than the rest of the week." It was Friday and today was the first day that she had not been on the verge of tears at some point during the school day. It slowly was getting easier to be at school. Each day was getting easier; she hadn't cried herself to sleep in two nights.

"That's great!" He and Catherine had landed on the Enterprise on Monday and, after talking to his daughter on the phone that night, he had again questioned his decision to leave her so soon after Cindy's death. That night, Alex had told him about her day and how she had spent the entire lunch period crying in the nurse's office because she missed her mom. Tuesday and Wednesday had been similar. Last night when he had talked to her, she had told him she didn't cry that day but that it still had been a tough day.

"I got my Chemistry test back finally."

"Yeah? How'd you do?"

"Ninety-six," Alex told him. Just based on the tone in her voice, he could imagine the proud smile on her face. "Only missed one question and it wasn't anything like those ones you went over with me."

"I'm proud of you, Sweetheart. Way to go!" He had been very concerned about that specific test. Alex didn't particularly care for Chemistry as it was and the test had been given just two days after Cindy's death. It wouldn't have surprised him if she had done horribly on it. "What else happened today?"

"Nothing really," she answered truthfully. "Kamekona picked me up from school and I helped out at his shrimp truck until Uncle Danny showed up. We had dinner there and then came home. I've just been hanging out in my room with Anchor since then." In fact, that had been pretty much all she had been doing all week. She had settled into a new routine: go to school; do her homework at headquarters until she and Uncle Danny headed to the house; walk and play with Anchor in the backyard; spend a few hours in her room doing nothing; go to sleep. It was the same thing every day and she was, surprisingly, okay with it. The only thing she wished she could have done that week was run in the mornings.

"Speaking of Uncle Danny," Steve said. "Can you put him on the phone for a few minutes?" He hadn't really had the chance to talk with Danny yet and he was curious to see if Alex really had been behaving in his absence. Of course, he figured that if Alex _had_ _been_ misbehaving Danny would have sent him an email or left him a voicemail about it. He didn't want to assume the worst so he was giving Alex the benefit of the doubt but it wasn't like her to just sit at the house, watching TV and doing nothing. He hoped Danny could confirm that she had, in fact, been obeying the punishment he had given her all those weeks ago.

"Hey, Steve," Danny greeted. "How's your training going?"

"Good," he answered. "How's work?"

"Oh, you know," Danny said in return. "We've been dealing with a gang who think it's okay to open fire from a moving car during lunch hour right outside of the Bishop Museum," he continued, referring to the case they had been working on for two days. "Which happened to be the very moment, I might add, when a class of sixth graders were eating lunch outside."

"Geez," Steve muttered. "How bad?"

"Thankfully only three kids received minor injuries," Danny answered. "None of which were caused by flying bullets. Unfortunately, our vic, who as it appears was an innocent bystander, was the daughter of the Estonian Prime Minister." Danny finally took a breath. "But I know that's not why you asked to talk to me."

"Yeah," Steve acknowledged. "How's Alex really doing?"

"Okay, I guess," Danny answered. "Quiet and spends a lot of time in her room."

"She behaving?"

"Yes," Danny told him. Alex's bedroom door was still removed and stored in the garage so, even if she had entertained the idea of sneaking out of her room, the missing door would have served as a difficulty in doing so. He understood Steve's concern – Alex had a reputation for defying her dad and going against whatever punishment he had assigned to her – but, over the last few days, Alex had been a different kid. "She's been an angel actually."

* * *

Approaching the front door of his house, he heard the unfamiliar beep-beep-beep of the smoke detector inside his house. Opening the door, he was shocked to see a room full of smoke; the smoke was heavier closer to the kitchen. Catching sight of discarded clothing on the recliner, he took a look around his living room. To say it was messy would have been an understatement. He bent down to pet Anchor who was jumping on his legs, begging for some attention.

"Hey," Danny greeted as he stepped into the room from the kitchen with a towel in hand. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be home until tomorrow."

Ignoring Danny's question, Steve stood up and dropped his black bag onto the floor and raced past Danny. "What the hell is going on?" Grabbing the miniature fire extinguisher from the pantry, he stepped into the kitchen and put out the fire that was burning in a pan on the stove.

"No, no, no," Danny said loudly. "Please don't." He let out a frustrated sigh when Steve abolished the fire and stepped back from the stove. Stepping up to the stove, Danny took in the sight of the now-blackened food in the pan. "Great," he said, glancing at Steve. "You killed my frittata."

"I put it out of its misery," Steve answered, stepping over to the sink and opening up the window there.

"I was just about to do that. Okay?" Danny said, joining Steve near the sink.

"Frittata? "Steve asked, before heading back out of the kitchen, slapping his hand on the smoke detector above the door to silence it.

"Grace had a frittata the other day for brunch," Danny explained, following Steve out of the kitchen and into the main room of the house. "She really enjoyed it and I was going to make her one. I was going to surprise her." He slung the towel over his right shoulder and took in the look on Steve's face. Stepping closer to him, he said, "You have aneurysm face. Why?"

"What happened to my house?"

Danny took a look around the room, not understanding the reason for Steve's question at first. "Oh, this?" he said, pointing towards the clothes on the couch. "Oh, this is going to be cleaned. You see, I have a very intricate pile system."

"A pile system?" Steve's face was one of utter disbelief. "Do me a favor and remind me of your pile system the next time I ask you to housesit." Finally setting the fire extinguisher down, he said, "How the hell did you manage to make it look like this when my daughter has been here the whole time with you?" Steve knew that Danny was a slob – one look at Danny's apartment would tell you that – but how he had managed to practically destroy the house when Alex, who liked things clean and orderly just like him, had been with him completely baffled him.

"Oh," Danny answered, "Like I said, your daughter has been spending a lot of time in her room." With a shrug, he continued, "Don't worry. Her room is immaculate as always and, upon your inspection, will meet your inane Army standards."

A barking dog that wasn't Anchor kept Steve from not correcting Danny for mistakenly identifying the wrong branch of the military. Instead, his eyes drifted above Danny to the second floor of the house. "You brought the dog?"

His hand up in front of him, Danny tried to explain. "I didn't mean to bring the dog. Rachel called me at the last minute and she had to leave the dog so I had to dog sit." Gesturing upstairs, he continued, "Don't worry, I am going to change the sheets immediately. I was actually planning on doing it –"

"You let the dog sleep in my bed?" Steve's face was one of utter disgust. "Even my own dog doesn't sleep in my bed, Danny. We do not allow dogs to sleep in beds."

"Well," Danny explained, "the couch does not fit the two of us and that's where I like to sleep as you know." The look on Steve's face had become too uncomfortable for him to look at so he tried changing the topic. "So how was the vacation with Catherine on the battleship?"

"It wasn't a vacation, Danny," Steve said, expelling an annoyed breath as he scratched his temple with his thumb. "It was a week's worth of ATA and it was on an aircraft carrier. That's uh…" He trailed off, momentarily distracted by the ringing of his phone. "Those are different boats." Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he answered, "Yeah, it's McGarrett." He listened for roughly ten seconds. "Yeah, we'll be right there." Disconnecting, he looked at Danny who was now sitting on the couch and said, "Emeril! We've got a body."

* * *

"I saw Mamo today," Steve said as he looked at his daughter across the dinner table. "He still wants to help you with your history project. I told him you'd give him a call this weekend to schedule a time to meet with him."

"Okay."

Steve studied his daughter in silence for several minutes as he finished off the burger he had grilled earlier. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Alex answered him, looking at him. "Why?"

"You're quiet for one," Steve told her, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "And Danny said you've been spending a lot of time in your room."

"Did you see what our living room looked like?" Alex asked him, intentionally not addressing his comment. "Of course I had to spend it in my room; there was no place to sit down here. His 'intricate pile systems'," she explained, using her fingers to make air quotes, "were everywhere."

"Danny certainly knows how to make a mess, doesn't he?" Steve stated. Reaching for his beer, he commented, "At least he cleaned everything up before he left." When she didn't say anything in reply, he returned to their previous topic of discussion, the one that his daughter had intentionally tried to avoid. "So, about all the time you've been spending in your room…"

"I've been studying and doing homework, Dad," she replied, her voice betraying her annoyance with him. "That's it. There's nothing else to it."

"Okay," Steve said, deciding to leave it alone for now. He'd just keep an eye on her and address it again when he needed to. "So, do you know anything about why Danny has invited everyone to dinner on Friday night?"

She shrugged. "Because he wants to have a dinner out with all of his friends?" Actually, she knew more than that but she wasn't going to tell him that. When Danny had found out that she had overheard his conversation with Gabby, he had made her promise to keep it a secret from everyone else. He wanted Grace to meet Gabby in a relaxed, comfortable atmosphere with everyone else there and she thought it was a great idea. Although, she did assure Danny that he really didn't need to be nervous about Grace meeting Gabby; she had absolutely no doubts that the two would get along great.

* * *

Concerned about the fact that he wasn't there to meet them like originally planned, Alex pulled her cell phone out of her pocket – her dad had given it back to her only so she could call him when she needed to – and dialed Josh's number. When he didn't answer, she sent him a text, inquiring as to where he was and if everything was okay. A couple of minutes later, the phone vibrated in her hand.

_School sucks. Ditching today. _

The bad feeling in her gut grew stronger as she read the words he had texted her. Something was wrong with him; she could feel it. Not wanting to alarm their friends, she told Seth and Tracy that Josh wasn't feeling well and insisted that they reschedule their morning jog around the track – they were restarting their exercise regimen after a two month hiatus – for Monday. As the two of them headed towards the track – they still wanted to jog a couple of laps together – she headed to the bike rack at the entrance of the school. She unlocked her bike, straddled it as she clipped on her helmet, and then pulled out her cell phone to send two text messages. After sending the second one, she hopped on her bike and sped off in the direction of the Sullivan's house.

It was a trip that normally would have taken twenty-five minutes but that morning it took her just fifteen minutes. Dropping her bike in the grass, she quickly unbuckled her helmet and dropped that to the ground along with her backpack. She knocked on the door and waited, mentally preparing herself for whatever side of Josh would open the door. When he opened the door, anger flashing in his eyes, she didn't allow herself to flinch at the sight of him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Came to check on you."

"I'm fine."

"Why are you bleeding then?" She was referring to the blood that was dripping from his right hand. It actually looked like there were pieces of glass embedded in his knuckles.

With a sigh, Josh opened the door further, allowing her to step inside. Shutting the door behind them, he admitted, "I punched a hole in my bedroom window."

Knowing that lecturing him about how stupid that action had been would be the wrong way to approach this situation, she ushered him over to the dining room table, ordered him to stay there and then went and retrieved the first aid kit from the hall bathroom. She stopped in the kitchen on the way back to the table, grabbing a bowl from the shelf and an ice pack from the freezer. Back at the table, she took the seat next to Josh, handing him the ice pack.

"What's this for?"

Without even blinking, she answered, "For your other hand." She opened the first aid kid

Flexing the fingers on his left hand – the hand that he didn't even think she had seen – he looked at the bruises on his knuckles. "How…" he trailed off as he rested the backside of his hand on the ice pack. Of course Alex would assume that he had punched a wall as well. He had once told her about all of the damage he had caused to himself. In the year after his mom had abandoned them, he had inflicted so much harm on himself. "You remember what I told you." A nod was all he got in return. Of course she remembered. It had been stupid of him to think she hadn't. He winced when she pulled a piece of glass out of his hand.

"Sorry," she said, setting the glass shard in the bowl. The only sound heard for the next five minutes was the sharp intake of breath every time Alex pulled a piece of glass out of Josh's hand.

"Alex, I –" Whatever Josh was going to say was interrupted by the sound of the front door being forcefully opened. Seconds later, their fathers were in the dining room.

"Josh!" Jason loudly said, rushing towards his son. Kneeling next to him, he took in the sight of his bloodied child. "What…" he trailed off as realization dawned on him. "How long?"

"First time in four years," Josh answered, hating the look of sorrow in his dad's eyes. "I'm – I'm sorry."

"No, Son," Jason said, wrapping his arms around Josh. "I'm the one who's sorry."

* * *

"Alex—"

"Can we please not talk about it?" Alex interrupted, staring out of the passenger side window.

"This is something we need to talk about," Steve said. This was one situation where she would not get her way. "What happened in there – what Josh did to himself – that was tough to see; tough to deal with."

"When he didn't show up this morning," Alex told him, scratching an itch on her head. "I knew something was wrong." Catching her dad's eye when he stopped at a traffic light, she said, "That's why I texted you and Mr. Sullivan. I knew I couldn't deal with it by myself so I …" she trailed off and resumed looking out the window. "I knew he wasn't okay with what he found out about his Mom. I just didn't know that he…"

"This isn't your fault, Sweetheart."

"I know that, Dad," she assured him. "I just…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "As much as it hurts me to know that Mom is dead, I just realized that I am the lucky one in a way. I'll get closure eventually – Mom can't hurt me anymore – but Josh… Josh has to live with the knowledge that his Mom decided to have another kid. Because his Mom's still alive, Josh has to continue hurting. He'll never get closure."

"Sweetheart," Steve started before getting interrupted by his daughter.

"I'm not sure I can handle being at school today," she admitted to him. "Can I just go back to your office with you for the rest of the day until the dinner tonight? I'll work on my homework and –"

"Okay." He was still extremely concerned about her emotional well-being and he just hoped that this situation with Josh wouldn't push her over the edge.

* * *

"To Danny!" Chin toasted, holding up a beer bottle.

"To Danny!" Kono, Steve, Max, Kamekona and Alex toasted in reply, each one holding up their respective beverages: beers for Kono, Max, and Steve; a fruity beverage for Kamekona; and a bottle of water for Alex.

"Thanks for checking," Chin said, before grinning and adding, "And double checking!"

"Triple checking," Kono corrected, her tone taking on a teasing quality.

"Hold on," Danny said, putting his hand up in the air. "Stop. I don't know why you guys played so hard to get. As if you had anything better to do."

"Hey listen," Steve argued, setting his beer bottle on the table. "The only reason we're here is because you're taking care of the tab. You know that."

"The first round only," Danny corrected, holding up his finger. His comment was answered by sighs and the sounds of disappointments from all of the adults at the table.

"What did I tell you?" a slightly tipsy Steve replied. Pointing across the table at Chin, he said, "I told you that." Getting louder, Steve said, "I should have bet money on that."

At that moment, a waiter arrived at their table, setting a plate of fried shrimp in front of Kamekona. Max, who was seated next to him, commented, "Don't you get enough of that at work?"

"Market research," Kamekona stated, holding one fried shrimp between his thumb and forefinger. "Gotta keep up with the competition," he explained, sniffing the shrimp. "Right, Little?"

"That's right, Kamekona," Alex, who had been very quiet throughout the whole dinner, agreed, shaking him off when he offered the piece of shrimp to her.

"Hey, you," Steve said, leaning forward and facing Kono. "That was a really good call you made today."

"Thanks," Kono said, giving into a smile. "Mahalo." She clinked beer bottles with him.

"You listened to your gut," Steve told her. Since she was sitting on the other side of Kono, it wasn't lost on him when Alex's body perked up at his comment to Kono. Maybe she sensed that his comment wasn't meant just for Kono; it was applicable to her, too. Alex had listened to her gut that morning when she had sensed that Josh was in trouble. He was proud of her for not only listening to her gut but also for notifying him and Jason so that they could come help Josh. "You did good."

"I learned it from you."

Turning in his seat, Steve saw that Danny's attention was focused on the scene on the beach: Grace and Gabby sitting in the sand. "Will you relax? She's right there."

"I'm completely fine!" Danny argued, his voice closely matching the loudness of Steve's.

Breaking into a proud smile, Steve said, "You did good, buddy." Glancing around the table, he continued, "He did good."

"You did real good," Kamekona agreed. "You picked a controlled environment, reduced expectation and pressure for all three of you. Good job."

"See Uncle Danny," Alex piped in. "Told you it would all work out." Her comment let the cat out of the bag; now everyone knew that she had known from the beginning what Danny's plans were for the evening.

"Thank you," Danny said to Kamekona. Turning his attention to the teenager, he said, "Thanks, Kiddo."

As everyone resumed talking to one another, he turned his attention back to the beach. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to look at Steve. "Listen to me," Steve told him. "Go over there."

"This is my controlled environment," Danny replied. "Okay? Not yours." With that, Steve sat back in his chair, made the motion that he was zipping his lips closed, and threw his hands out to the side, a move that told Danny he was done. "Not a word," Steve said, looking at everyone but Danny. "Not a word. I'm done."

"Now I feel like going over there," Danny announced to the table. Rising from his seat, he said, "On my own … whatever." Giving into a laugh, Steve picked up his beer and took a swig. He watched as his friend approached Gabby and Grace and then finally took a seat next to them in the sand. With everything that had been going on lately, it was a huge relief to see Danny look so happy.

Alex's eyes followed Danny as he made his way down to the beach, where he joined Gabby and Grace. Seeing how happy he was – seeing how happy everyone at the table was – brought a warmth to her heart that she hadn't felt in quite awhile. Even though certain things in life were less than ideal and downright painful, other things served as a reminder of how great life could be. Even if there were a lot of painful things going on in her own life, knowing that Danny was happy with Gabby and that Grace was a child who was loved by so many adults made those negative things a little less painful. Seeing the trio at the beach, listening to the conversation and laughter of everyone at the table, was a hopeful sign of things to come. Things were going to start looking up. Things were going to get better. Not just for her, but for her Dad, too.

* * *

**NWU – Navy Working Uniform. These are the "every day" uniform. In the episode referred to in the first part of this chapter, Steve's NWU's were green and Catherine's were blue.**

**A/N: I'm still looking for ideas of where you think Steve might take Alex on vacation. Also, apart from Steve and Alex, what is your favorite relationship dynamic in this story? **

**Mahalo for reading and reviewing!**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: This chapter references two Episodes: 2.18 "Lekio" (Radio) and 2.19 "Kalele" (Faith), although there is no specific scene from either one. I did, however, give Steve's birthday much more attention that it received in the episode. As always, thank you to everyone reading this story. Specifically:**

**Karymcgarret – Thank you for your review. I really do work hard on this story so for you to say it is "nicely written" tells me that my hard work is paying off.**

**Pinkphoenix1985 – Yes, Steve and Alex will have a conversation about those things Alex can't remember about her mom. As for Josh – that morning would have been the first time she was allowed to see him again – you didn't miss anything. Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing (and for your PM's about this story)!**

**Lynnrxgal – Love your suggestion! The place where they will spend the majority of their vacation is one of my favorite places that I have ever visited. Thanks!**

**AnonGuest – Yes, Danny/Alex is one of my favorite pairings, too! Thank you for reading/reviewing!**

**Sunny irish – Yes, yes, and yes! All of my faves, too. Plus, Alex/Josh, of course! Yes, our girl is learning to not try to deal with everything by herself. She really did take that conversation with her dad (the one he gave her after she spent hours in the holding cell at Five-0) to heart and is doing her best to ask for help when she needs it. Yep, Steve will be talking to Alex about happy memories with Cindy.**

**Francis2 – I absolutely love Alex/Josh as well! Thanks for being one of the most loyal readers and reviewers of this story!**

**Gear's Girl – Thanks! Steve will be taking her to places with a lot of history. I love Catherine and Alex's relationship, too! Catherine certainly has natural mothering tendencies when it comes to Alex and she's really good for Alex's further growth and development into a young woman.**

**stellaSMacked – Alex and Grace are always fun to write. Yes, I agree, they certainly do understand each other and they really do view each other as sisters. Thanks for reading!**

**FicreaderT – Thanks for the compliment. Deciding on a vacation location was tough but I think I've picked the right place(s) necessary for both healing and rest/relaxation/fun. Hope you enjoy what I end up picking!**

**Craftygirl11 – yes, thank you for all of your suggestions! yes, the vacation is my way of explaining Steve's absence for Episode 2.20 and the crossover episodes. Being responsible for his daughter, he can't just whisk away to Japan for a couple of weeks.**

**Thank you for reading this chapter. If you haven't reviewed before, please consider doing so in this chapter. I'm anxious to hear what you think! Mahalo!**

* * *

"Uncle Danny," Alex said, dropping her backpack on the floor as she walked into Danny's office. "Did you really tell Grace that all boys are evil and that her friend Dylan is, and I quote, 'no good'"? She had received a phone call fifteen minutes ago from Grace who had told her all about what had happened that morning at the Hilton pool. Danny had lectured Grace about her friend Dylan, who she had been talking to at the top of the water slide while her dad waited at the bottom in the pool. Alex could not believe that Danny had basically referred to Dylan, and all boys for that matter, as the devil incarnate.

Danny, who was seated at his desk, looked at Alex, mouth slightly agape. Whatever happened to a traditional greeting when entering someone's office? Alex was becoming more and more like her father every day, as scary as that was to think about. "Since when does Grace report these things to you?"

"Since the day we met," Alex replied as her body took on the characteristic McGarrett stance. "Why would you lie and tell her that?"

"I did not lie," Danny said, his index finger pointed in the air. "I stated a fact: boys are evil and –"

"A fact?" Alex gave into a laugh. "Seriously, Uncle Danny? That's the excuse you are going to use? Why can't you just admit that you were acting like an over-protective, paranoid Dad?"

"I am not paranoid," Danny argued. "Boys are no good, especially that one."

"Dylan is a polite, respectful, and smart kid," Alex stated matter-of-factly as she had had the privilege of meeting Grace's friend once when they had gone to play glow-in-the-dark mini golf at the mall. "He –"

"—Is a stalker," Danny interrupted adamantly.

"A stalker?" Alex asked, giving into another laugh. "Dylan is ten. _ Ten._"

"Does a normal ten year old call a girl five times in three days?" Danny asked, his voice getting louder and closer to a ranting pace.

Alex narrowed her eyes at him, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she considered his question. "How do you know that?" Then, her eyes blew open wide. "Did you dump her phone?" The look on his face answered for him. Alex shook her head. "Wow, Uncle Danny. Just wow."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Danny asked her, his eyes not betraying the fact that Steve was now standing directly behind his daughter.

"Dumping a phone is something _my_ paranoid Dad would do," Alex answered, fairly certain that her Dad had monitored every single phone call and text message that she had ever sent or received. Heck, he had probably even run background checks on everyone associated with those numbers. "Besides, boys are _not_ evil."

"Oh, really," Danny said, stifling an amused grin. Maybe it was cruel but he was curious to see if Alex was going to end up regretting the words that would come out of her mouth. She still did not know her dad was behind her; this would be interesting. "I beg to differ. Boys, even ten year old boys, are evil. Take Ted Bundy for instance; he was ten once."

"So were you," Alex pointed out. "So were my dad and Chin. Are you saying that all three of you were evil at one point?"

Danny grinned, more for Steve's benefit than Alex's. "No, but we are the rare exceptions. Although, sometimes, your dad –"

"Not all boys are evil," Alex repeated, softly glaring at him. "Most are cute and ki –"

"You might want to carefully consider if you want to finish that thought or not," Steve said, causing his daughter to startle.

Turning around to face him, she glared at him. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and matching his daughter's stance. "And Danny's right: boys, _all_ boys, are evil and you and Grace need to stay as far away from them as possible."

Alex rolled her eyes. "You do realize that I turn sixteen in fifteen months, right?" Alex reminded him, giving into a knowing smirk. The only thing more fun than actually flirting with boys was watching her dad freak out every time she mentioned boys. "And the first thing I'm going to do is start dating. And I'll be dating _boys_. _Lots _of boys."

Literally feeling the hair on his head turning gray, Steve gave his daughter "the look". "Boys are evil and nothing but trouble. End of story." Pointing over his shoulder towards his office, he said, "Go do your homework."

Once Alex was out of his office, Danny smirked at Steve and said, "Oh, so _now_ suddenly you agree with me that boys are evil." Earlier, when Danny had expressed his concerns about Dylan, Steve had basically acted like Danny was insane.

"Teenage boys, yes," Steve replied, rubbing his temple in an attempt to ward off the headache that his daughter's last comment was going to cause. "Especially teenage boys who my daughter decides to flirt with just to give a heart attack. _Teenage_ boys are evil, Danny. _Not_ ten year old boys."

* * *

As he waited for the coffee to finish brewing, Steve listened to the muffled voices coming from the dining room. Roughly half an hour ago, he and Danny had been surfing at Queen's Beach in Waikiki. Correct that: they had just come to shore, carrying their surfboards, after Danny had stolen another surfer's wave. They had stood there in the sand, arguing over surfing courtesy, when they had been interrupted by Mary, calling their names and walking towards them wearing a flight attendant uniform. Apparently she was now working for the airlines and she had just landed that morning. The coffee finished brewing; he poured his sister a cup. He headed out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand, and rounded the corner into the dining room.

Mary took the mug from her brother. "So you guys are like surf buddies now, huh?" She had to admit that it had been kind of funny when she finally had found her brother and Danny on the beach. When she spotted them, they had been in some sort of animated argument. If she didn't know any better she would have thought they were a married couple by the way they were acting.

Steve shrugged. "Yeah, kinda." They both missed the hurt look the quickly crossed Danny's face.

"How cute," Mary observed, sampling the coffee.

"Why didn't you call me?" Steve asked her. "I would have picked you up at the airport."

"Because I wanted to surprise you," Mary answered with a pleased smile on her face.

"Look at him," Danny observed needlessly. "Definitely surprised."

"A good way," Steve stated with a smile on his face. "In a good way." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the chair in front of him. "So a stewardess," he noted, again taking in the uniform that she was wearing. "How exactly did that happen?"

"Uh, well my friend Angela worked for the airlines and she knew I needed a job." A proud smile appeared on her face. "So here I am. And, by the way, we like to be called 'flight attendants'."

"I knew that," Danny said from his spot in the chair at the head of the table. "Actually, can I have a cup of coffee, too?" His question went ignored.

"Are you, uh, staying in town for awhile?" Steve asked, knowing full well that if she was he would more than likely be taking her and Alex out to dinner tonight. Once Alex found out that Mary was in town, she would insist on him treating them to dinner during which, he knew for a fact, he would be subjected to their teasing and girl talk. Not that it really mattered either way; it was nice to see his sister again. Even if she had taken him completely by surprise with her arrival.

"Actually no," Mary answered before explaining, "I'm working the return flight back to New York." She set the coffee mug down on the table. "I'll take a rain check on the coffee".

"But you just got here," Steve said, his tone bordering on whining.

"I know," Mary returned, "but I'm going to stop by Alex's school real quick just so she knows that my flight made it here safely".

"She knew?"

"Of course she knew, silly," Mary told her brother, giving him a look that told him she thought he was an idiot. Even though she didn't talk to her brother all that often, he knew that she talked to Alex fairly regularly. During their last conversation a couple of days ago, she had told Alex all about her job and that she would be flying into town today. Alex had been excited for her but Mary had made her promise to keep it a secret. "She knew I wanted to surprise you," she said with a shrug. "But hey, we'll catch up next time. I have so much to tell you". She hugged her brother while adding, "Don't worry. All good stuff."

"I'm not worried," Steve assured her. "I'm happy for you". And it was true. His sister looked happy and appeared to be doing much better than the last time he had seen her. It was such a relief to see this side of Mary.

"Thank you," Mary said, giving him a smile. She grabbed her purse where it had been hanging off of the back of the chair. "Okay, I'll see you guys in like three days."

"Okay. Bye, Sis."

"See ya," Danny said, snatching the abandoned coffee mug and claiming it as his own. Once Mary left the room, he said, "Hey."

Steve turned around to face him. "Yeah?"

"So we are _kinda_ surf buddies?"

"You sensitive right now?" Steve asked, amused by the expression on Danny's face.

"Yeah, a little bit," Danny admitted. Steve smirked then started to laugh. Shaking his head at Danny, he left the room, heading upstairs to shower.

* * *

He glanced at their surroundings – the tables were covered in white linen; the room was open to both the bar and the kitchen and had a small and intimate feel to it – and then back at his daughter who was carefully studying her menu. He looked out the window that they were seated next to. The view was not one of the prettiest in Honolulu, looking out over King Street, with no ocean view. Yet, for a business that operated out of the third floor of an office building with no parking, Alan Wong's was one of the most renowned restaurants in all of Hawaii. The restaurant's namesake, Alan Wong, was one of twelve cofounders of the Hawaii Regional Cuisine, a fusion of many foods that had been brought to the Hawaiian Islands by immigrants. Hawaii Regional Cuisine highlighted Hawaii's local grown ingredients and diverse ethnic styles and Alan Wong's Honolulu was one of the premiere dining spots in which to sample it. Even the President himself had dined here on multiple occasions.

"Can you stop staring at me?" Alex's voice came from behind her menu. "You're giving me the creeps."

"Am not," Steve argued gently, reaching out and pulling on the menu until she lowered it. Now able to see her face, he asked, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to figure out what to order," she answered, intentionally pretending to not know what he was really asking.

"Alexandra," he stated, returning her stare.

"What?" She asked, giving him a sweet smile.

"You know what," he told her, resting his arms on the table. "You bringing me here." Earlier, after the surprise birthday celebration at the office – which involved him eating an extremely salted piece of cake – he and Alex had dropped Mary off at the airport and then, after a quick stop at home to let Anchor out, Alex had told him they had somewhere to be. Not giving him any further details, she had directed him to the parking lot at Old Stadium Park and then, practically dragging him by the arm, directed him half a mile up King Street, finally stopping outside the building that housed this restaurant.

She shrugged. "It's your birthday and Catherine said you always wanted to try the food here."

"It's expensive, Alex."

She shrugged again. "Then think of it as a birthday gift from Mom."

"From Mom?"

Alex nodded. "Her check."

The check for $100,000 which Cindy had mailed to Alex from Prague had hung on their refrigerator until one week ago when Alex, with his guidance, had finally decided to keep the money. Coming to that decision had been a tough one for Alex to make as it had served as a reminder of how much Cindy thrived on making money and how often that pursuit of money had kept Cindy from being a mother to her. He had managed to convince her to put the majority of the money into the savings account that had been set up as a college fund. He had allowed her to put a small amount – five thousand – into her checking account but, as always, he monitored her account frequently and she needed to consult with him prior to using her debit card or making large withdrawals. He wanted her to be responsible financially; she did not need to spend the money simply because the money was there. "You don't need to –"

"It's your birthday, Dad," she interrupted. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been around to celebrate his birthday with him. "Why can't you just let me do something nice for you?"

Even though he did not like his daughter using her own money on an expensive dinner on his behalf, he would let her win this battle. "Okay," he said, giving her a smile. "You're right. Thank you, Sweetheart." Picking up his menu, he asked, "What did you decide on?"

She returned his smile and then picked up her menu. "I was debating between the Twice Cooked Short rib with Gingered Shrimp or the Ginger Crusted Onaga, Long-Tail Snapper."

"Why not both?"

"Both?" Alex gave him a look like he was crazy.

Steve nodded, giving into a laugh. Reaching over, he pointed to a section of the menu. "We could order the 'Tasting of the Classics'," he explained, reading from his own menu. "It includes both of those plus the Chopped Ahi Sashimi and Avocado Salsa Stack, the Seafood Lasagna, and the Mini Coconut for desert." Looking at his daughter, he said, "It has everything we both want; we can share."

"Okay," Alex said, closing the menu and setting it back on the table. "Sounds like a plan." She took a drink of water. "You think they make the Mini Coconut desert with salt?" With that said, she broke into a huge grin and started belly-laughing at she remembered the look on her dad's face when he bit into that piece of cake earlier.

Steve shook his head. "Glad you found that so amusing." His phone, which was in his pocket, started to ring but, since they had just tied up a case, he ignored it.

Alex glanced at her watch. "That will be Catherine; you should answer it." When her Dad raised his eyebrow in question, she repeated rather impatiently, "Answer it."

Sure enough, when he pulled the phone out of his pocket, it was Catherine's beautiful face that he saw on the caller id screen. As he continued to give his daughter a questioning look, he answered the phone. "Hey, Cath."The waiter approached and Alex took responsibility for ordering their meal.

"Happy Birthday, Sailor," she greeted enthusiastically. "Hi, Alex," she said.

"Um, Cath," Steve said, watching as his daughter ordered their food. "You're not on speaker phone."

"Didn't Alex tell you? I'm supposed to be."

"Huh?" Catherine wasn't making any sense. His daughter, who had finished ordering, was giving him an amused look.

Taking pity on her dad – he just looked so confused – Alex reached across the table and pulled his arm towards her. When the phone was within her reach, she took it out of his hand and pushed the speaker button. "Hi, Catherine."She set the phone down in the middle of the table.

"Hi, Honey," Catherine replied. "You didn't get a chance to tell your Dad?"

"Tell me what?" Steve asked impatiently.

Alex and Catherine both gave into laughter. "We're having dinner together, Dad," Alex told him. "The three of us."

"That's right," Catherine agreed. "While you eat what I can only imagine is an amazing meal, I will be eating an early breakfast of powdered eggs and bacon."

Alex gave into a laugh again as she watched the expression on her dad's face. "Give him a minute, Catherine, I think he's in shock."

Coming out of his shock, he glanced at his watch. "Cath, it's like four in the morning there." He knew that the USS Enterprise was currently in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, putting Catherine ten hours ahead of Honolulu time. "Your twelve-hour shift ended four hours ago. You should be sleeping."

"I'm fine, Steve," Catherine assured him. "It's your birthday and, I know it's not the same as me physically being there with you, but Alex and I thought the three of us could celebrate together."

"You two…" he said, trailing off as he gave into a grin. His daughter and Catherine were pretty amazing; they sure knew how to make a guy feel loved. What had he ever done to deserve either one of them?

* * *

"Hey buddy," Steve whispered, squatting down and picking up Anchor. He hated to admit it but the dog that was supposed to be his daughter's had, so far, ended up being equally his. Anchor had really grown on him but, then again, the dog was much better behaved than most puppies Steve had ever come into contact with in the past. Alex was doing such an amazing job training him and her responsibility for him had yet to lapse. Anchor yipped excitedly, licking Steve's hand. "Shh," Steve whispered as he glanced at his daughter's sleeping form. "We can't wake our girl."

"I'm awake," Alex said, rolling over to face him.

"Oh," Steve said, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge. He set Anchor back down on the floor – the dog knew he wasn't allowed to sleep on the bed – and, after circling three times, lay back down in the same spot near the bed that he abandoned only moments earlier. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," she answered. It wasn't the entire truth – her insomnia was back – but she wasn't going to let that put a dour end to her dad's birthday. "You?"

Steve smiled. "I'm great thanks to you and Catherine." He ran a hand down his tired face. "You really surprised me today. Thank you for finding a way for the three of us to have dinner together." The only thing that would have made dinner better was if his sister had been able to stay for it. At least he had been able to have a quality conversation with her after his team had cleared her name in the diamond heist.

Alex gave him a smile. "You don't have to thank me, Dad. It was your birthday." She glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand. "It still is your birthday, actually." She grinned at him. "How does it feel to be only five years away from 40?"

Steve shook his head and groaned. Thanks to his daughter and her tendency to flirtatiously smile at random teenage boys on the street – which she had done to six different boys on their short walk back to the parking lot after dinner – he was going to look forty long before he ever reached that age. He would swear on it that a hundred more strands of the hair on his head had turned gray in the six minutes it took them to get back to the truck. He knew it was only going to get worse with each passing day that brought her closer to sixteen.

"What?" Alex asked, sitting up in the bed and scooting backwards so her back was touching the wall.

"Nothing," he told her as he shook his head to clear it. Looking at his daughter again, he said, "You're a good kid, Alexandra."

"Does that mean I'm not grounded anymore?"

"Ha," Steve said, feigning a laugh. "Nice try." He stood up, stepping over Anchor as he made his way to the doorway. "Get some sleep, Sweetheart. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad. Hope you had a good birthday."

* * *

"Hey."

Alex looked up at the sound of Josh's voice. "Hey," she returned as he sat down next to her on the top step of the set of stairs that led to the front entrance of their school.

"So you didn't bring your bike today either?" Ever since the morning that he had allowed his anger to take over all rational thought leading to an incident of self-harm, his dad had not allowed him to ride his bike to school. Instead, his Dad would drop him off every morning after his appointment with the therapist and then he'd been forced to wait after school, sometimes for hours, until his Dad could pick him up to head home.

Alex shook her head in the negative. "Nope, I had an appointment this morning before school so my Dad dropped me off."

"Oh." They sat in awkward silence – the first time awkwardness ever existed between them – for several minutes. "It's been weird," Josh finally said, pulling his Seattle Mariners ball cap out of his backpack and putting it on his head. "You know, these last few weeks. Not getting to see each other outside of school and all." This was the first time in nearly a month that they had been alone together. Added to that was the fact that they barely had been able to communicate with each other _during_ the school day as well due to having fewer classes together this semester. In addition, ever since the day two weeks ago when he had punched a hole in the wall of his bedroom and through the window in the kitchen, he had not even been able to spend the lunch hour with his friends because he now spent that time in the school psychologist's office.

"Yeah," Alex agreed, stretching her legs out in front of her. "It's been really weird." Glancing at him, she admitted, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," he replied, covering her hand with his. "I'm seeing a shrink again," he told her. "And meeting with Mr. Davis every day at lunch."

"That's good," Alex replied, meeting his eye for the first time. She gave him an encouraging smile. "I hope both of those things help."

"Thanks," he said, returning her smile. "Me too." When she turned her head to look straight ahead again, he studied her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" she asked, looking at him with confusion in her eyes. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"For not being a good friend to you," he answered. He sighed. "I should have been there for you after your Mom –" Mr. McGarrett had shown up at their house looking for Alex on the afternoon that she had found out her mom had died. Alex wasn't with them and it had literally hurt Josh to know that Alex had lost her mom for good. Alex's mom had not been a very nice lady but, for Alex to have run off without telling anyone where she was going, had been a testament to how much she was hurting. Josh, Sam and their dad had actually gotten into their SUV and went looking for her but, when Mr. McGarrett had called to say he had found Alex, his dad had taken them home. He had wanted to be there for her multiple times, especially that morning in History when she had rushed off to Principal Kamiya's office, but, with as much anger, hatred and pain he was dealing with because of what they had found out about his mom, he had been at a total loss as to how to help her. Still, he felt like a failure; he should have been able to push aside his own hurt in order to comfort his best friend.

"You were dealing with your own stuff, Josh," Alex interrupted. Shaking her head, she added, "All I did was cry for the whole first week afterwards. You being there wouldn't have changed that."

"I know," Josh acknowledged. As much as he hated his own mother, he could not imagine the pain that came from hearing your mother was dead. He could not imagine how much pain Alex must be experiencing right now. "But still. I should have been there for you and I wasn't. I owe you –"

"The only person you owe something to is yourself," she said, interrupting him again. "You owe it to yourself to get better."

"Yeah," Josh mumbled, scratching his head with the brim of his cap. She had a point – he did owe it to himself to stop being so angry and to stop hurting himself. But he still felt like he had been a crappy friend to her lately. Repositioning the cap on his head, he said, "You've been a really good friend to me, Alex. You've always been there for me but, when you needed me most, I wasn't there for you. I failed you and I'm sorry."

Alex shook her head. "You _haven't_ failed me, Josh." Absently rubbing her thumb along the side of his hand which covered her, she continued, "Honest, you haven't. Every single time I've needed a friend in the last eight, nine months you were there." When he opened his mouth to speak, she covered it with her other hand. "When I found out about my Mom, the only person I really needed was my Dad." She shrugged her shoulders. "He still is the only person I need. I think he's the only one who can help me get through this."

Of course, she still believed that her Dad needed to help himself before he could ever seriously help her. Yes, last week, on the night of his birthday, he had told her he was doing great. Yet, he still wasn't sleeping very much and, when he did, he experienced nightmares. Three times alone in the last week, she had found herself sitting in the hallway outside of his bedroom, watching him struggle violently with the sheets on his bed until he would wake up, drenched in sweat and staring straight through her. Plus, she couldn't even be sure he was eating like he was supposed to be – his face had continued to get thinner over the last two weeks and she could confidently bet money on the fact that he had lost body weight, too – and, truth be told, it was scaring her. Her dad had been very supportive, caring, loving and approachable in the weeks since her mom had died but she knew that he could never quite help her in the way she needed until he took care of himself. It was like the instructions provided to airline passengers on every single flight: 'Be sure to don your own mask, before assisting others with theirs'.

"So, we're okay?"

"Of course we're okay," she answered, squeezing his hand. "We'll always be okay," she said before giving into the sudden urge to press a quick kiss to his lips.

"Okay," Josh finally said after getting over the initial shock of the kiss. They had only kissed three times before but never had it been a place where someone might see them. He gave her a bright smile. "Thanks." Staring down at the scabs on his knuckles, he commented, "I never thanked you for pulling the glass out of my hand."

Alex shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal but you're welcome."

"Seth and Tracy keep asking what happened to my hand," he told her. The sound of his voice told her that he was feeling relieved at the opportunity to finally talk to her again. "You didn't tell them."

"Not my story to tell, Josh."

He gave into another smile. What she said was _exactly_ one of the reasons they were such great friends. "You didn't get scared either. Before – right after my Mom left – I was so bad that Sam used to get scared that I would hurt him."

Locking eyes with him, she replied, "I knew you wouldn't take your anger out on me physically." Getting that part out, she diverted her eyes to the parking lot. If she looked at him any longer, her eyes would betray that she had, in fact, been terrified that morning two weeks ago. It wasn't the thought of him hurting her – what she had just verbalized to him was the truth – that had scared her. No, that morning when she had seen the blood dripping from his hand, she had been absolutely terrified of what might have happened if she had decided to not bike over to his house. It still scared the crap out of her when she thought about what could have happened if she had chosen to not listen to her gut instinct. The idea of Josh inflicting severe damage to himself – or worse – scared her so much that she wasn't sure how to deal with it. She cared a lot about Josh. She liked kissing him. She liked just spending time with him and, out of all of her friends, even Alyssa, he was the one that she would choose to be with during both good and bad times. Things just weren't the same without him. Yet, in this moment, more than ever before, she knew that her Dad had been right when he said that they both needed to deal with their personal pains before even thinking about helping each other.

At that very moment she was grateful for her Dad's timing; seeing his truck enter the parking lot served as a momentary distraction from the emotional anguish that she was beginning to feel. The mere thought of losing yet another person she cared about – the thought of losing Josh – was too much to handle at the moment. Knowing better than to give in to the urge to kiss him again, she resorted to hugging him. Then, she stood up, picking her backpack up by one of the straps as she did. Bidding goodbye to Josh, she jogged towards her Dad's truck and climbed inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Hey," Steve greeted when she climbed into the passenger seat. "So, Josh," he observed, waving at the teenager through the window. "How—"

"You said we couldn't see each other outside of school," Alex said, ignoring his question.

"I know what I said," Steve replied, not understanding why she had an attitude. "I—"

"I haven't broken any of your rules since Mom died," Alex snapped. "You can't get mad at me for talking to him when _you_ were the one who was late picking me up."

"Whoa," Steve said, holding his hand up in defense. "I never said you were in trouble, Alex. All I did was try to ask you a simple question. No need for you to bite my head off."

"Sorry," she mumbled, her tone not entirely apologetic. "We were just talking about our moms. Can we just home now?"

"Alex."

"I don't want to talk about it. Please, Dad, just drive." As he headed in the direction of their house, he watched his daughter out of the corner of his eye. She didn't say anything but that wasn't anything even remotely alarming; she had become a much quieter kid in the weeks following her mother's death. It was her other behavior that concerned him – picking at her nails; the anxious tapping of her foot; the solitary tear that fell down her cheek. It was, in that very moment, that he made the decision to do what he had been considering doing for awhile now. He was going to take her out of town, off the island, and far away from this place. She needed the opportunity to heal and maybe, by helping her do that, he'd be able to heal, too.

* * *

**A/N: They are going on vacation in the next chapter! **


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: First off, Happy Thanksgiving to everyone out there who celebrates the holiday! Hope you get the chance to spend the day with your loved ones and give thanks for all of the blessings in your life.**

**Secondly, today was a rough day and much of the emotion in this chapter echoes what I experienced today. I have cried way too many tears and now I have a headache.**

**Thirdly, the thank you's:**

**HBSpud – Thank you for the AF joke, LOL. And, yes, my heart aches for the dads just as much as the kids. I'm not a parent but I can only imagine the pain Steve and Jason feel over how much pain their kids are in.**

**Guest – Thank you for discovering my story and for reviewing. Hope you continue to enjoy it.**

**FicreaderT – This is the first part of their vacation. Right now it's just the two of them.**

**NYR88 – Thank you. I really felt that canon Catherine would have at least called canon Steve for his birthday. For the purposes of my story (and the relationship between Steve and Catherine), I thought that Catherine just had to be involved in at least part of his birthday celebration. And I agree – both Stee and Alex _really_ need Catherine back on the island. Alex is her father's daughter – both are very good at being concerned for other people even when they are in pain themselves.**

**Gear's Girl – Thank you.**

**Tessab – This is the first part of their vacation. Hope you like where I chose to send them. Yes, Alex is very good at pushing her father's buttons when it comes to boys, LOL. I'm not sure if their vacation will include conflict – with today's overall crappiness I haven't thought that far ahead – but we will see. That said, Cindy's death has really struck a chord with Alex; it's calmed her down. Thank you for your kind words – I love every alert I receive that says I got a new review or pm from a reader. Those are especially helpful on days like today.**

**Pinkphoenix1985 – I sort of wish I put in more Mary/Alex time, too, but honestly I had a hard time fitting that in with the canonical timeline. Mary did not spend a lot of time in Honolulu… Haha, but yes, Josh and Alex are a pretty adorable "couple". Thanks for everything!**

**stellaSMacked – Wow! Thanks for the compliment. Alex and Catherine really hit it off from the beginning mostly, I think, because of their mutual respect, admiration, and love for Steve. And about boys – I _love_ tormenting story Steve by having Alex stress him out over boys!**

**francis2 – Thank you. I loved integrating Catherine into Alex's dinner for her dad. And I hope you enjoy this snippet of the first part of their vacation (as short as it is!).**

**AnonGuest – Thank you so much for that wonderful compliment!**

**Sexycazzy – Thank you for commenting. I love seeing "new" people express their interest in this story.**

**Sunny irish- It definitely is best for the teens to be apart for awhile and this little vacation the McGarrett's are on will help with that, I think. Thanks, as always, for reading/reviewing!**

**Craftygirl11 – Thank you. I think one of Alex's best qualities is that, even when she's going through a lot of emotional anguish, she is still very concerned about and caring of other people. Steve needed to know that he was appreciated and loved, especially on his birthday of all days!**

* * *

The first thought that went through her mind as her Dad drove their rental car down the streets of Annapolis was how stunningly beautiful it was. The squat, brick red Colonial architecture and well-preserved cobblestone streets of the downtown area made her feel like she had journeyed back to the 18th century. Seeing the horse drawn carriages had only added to that sentiment. He had driven near the waterfront, giving her a glimpse of the vibrant maritime life of the city of her birth; yachts were bobbing in the Chesapeake and Naval Academy midshipmen strolled along the sidewalks. She had caught a brief glimpse of the dome of the Maryland State House and the history geek inside of her had squealed in excitement; the Treaty of Paris, which ended the Revolutionary War, had been ratified there and George Washington had resigned as Commander in Chief of the Continental armies in the Old Senate Chamber there. She hadn't been able to help the sense of McGarrett family pride that filled her heart and soul when they drove past the entrance to the Naval Academy.

She glanced at her dad who, aside from pointing out historical buildings that they passed, had been quiet ever since getting into the rental car at the Baltimore airport. It had been almost twenty hours – their flights had totaled fifteen hours with layovers in Los Angeles and Philadelphia – since her Dad had walked into her room, set a suitcase on her bed, told her to pack enough clothes for at least a week, and then, before heading down the hall to his room, told her she had forty-five minutes to be packed and ready to go. After dropping Anchor off at a dog boarding facility, they had headed to the airport for a flight that left at 11:30 that night. They had landed early in Maryland at 5:30 pm and now it was nearing 6:30. She still didn't quite understand why her dad had decided to take a spur-of-the-moment vacation. Even if Danny and Chin had talked to him about their concerns about his weight loss and constantly tired appearance, she had not expected him to make such a quick decision. Especially considering it was still in the middle of the school semester.

Once their flight had taken off, he had told her to get some sleep – their flight to Los Angeles would take five-and-a-half hours – the average length of her nightly sleep – and then during their five hour flight to Philly she would start working on the homework he had requested from all of her teachers. She had breezed through her Asian History, English and Geometry assignments; practiced Japanese with her Dad; had him help her with some of her Chemistry; completed one chapter in her Art History textbook. As for her Navy ROTC class, she needed to be prepared for the end-of-the-semester tests: fitness; drill and ceremony; orienteering and map reading; and a written exam on Naval History and ships/aircraft. Regardless of how long she was gone, she felt very confident that she would succeed in all of those exams; she lived with a Navy SEAL after all. She still had a ton of homework that needed to be completed and her dad had told her that she would be spending at least two hours every day on her assignments, regardless of what else he had planned for them on their vacation.

"We're here."

Alex shifted her eyes past her dad to look out at the window. The sight that greeted her was a square, Colonial style house, light blue in color with a red roof and blue clapboard shutters. The front façade of the house had five windows on the second floor. A small triangular peak – it must have been the third floor – in the roof contained a curtained window. There were two red doors, each with a set of five stairs leading up to them. It was a pretty house and it made Alex think that it might have been used as a farmhouse at some point in history. "Where are we?"

"Eastport House Bed and Breakfast," Steve answered, opening his door. "Grab your stuff and let's go check in."

Alex met her Dad at the trunk, pulling out her backpack and suitcase. Pulling the handle up on the rollaway luggage, she followed him to the front entrance, up the steps, through the door, and into an airy, open front parlor. An older woman with a kind and warm smile greeted them. "Hi, I'm Susan. I'm the owner of Eastport House. Welcome!"

"Steve McGarrett," Steve greeted, shaking her hand and returning her smile. "This is my daughter, Alexandra."

"Hello, Alexandra," Susan greeted, shaking the teenagers' hand.

"Hello, Ma'am," Alex returned. As her dad began the check-in procedures with Susan, Alex took another look around the room. The house had clearly been renovated but the hardwood floors looked like they could have been the originals. There was a beautiful floral print rug on the floor the parlor. The dining room was just off of the parlor; a long wood table was surrounded by twelve simple wooden chairs. A small sky blue colored vase sat in the middle of the table, in it stood a single artificial flower. The rooms were simple yet warm. She turned her ear back towards the conversation when she heard the lady inquire as to where they were from.

"Honolulu," Steve said as he filled out the information about the rental car onto the guest check-in sheet.

"Long way from home," Susan commented. "And you're staying just the one night?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Steve answered, glancing briefly at his daughter. He had not shared with her yet that Annapolis was not the final destination of their trip; he hadn't told her that they would only be here for just over 24 hours. "We're headed elsewhere for vacation but I wanted to stop here and show my daughter around."

"So you've been here before," Susan observed. "Let me guess: Naval Academy?"

Steve smiled. "Yes, Ma'am. Class of '99." Living in a city like Annapolis, it was no surprise that she could pick out a Navy man. "My daughter was born here as well but she doesn't remember it." He finished signing his name and set the pen down.

Susan handed him the key to their room. "The only room I had available when you made your reservation was The Duck Room. It's on the third floor. Breakfast is served at 6:30." She smiled at both of them. "Not sure what your plans are for tomorrow but if you don't want to walk or take the water taxi, we do offer bikes for your use, free of charge."

"Thank you," Steve said, returning her smile. Looking at his daughter, he said, "Ready to drop our stuff off upstairs and then head to dinner?"

Alex smiled. "Let's go. I'm starving."

* * *

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

"What?" Alex asked distractedly. She was still taking in their surroundings: the Midshipmen at the corner table laughing as loudly as was possible for sober people; the tourist families with young children; the locals sitting at the bar, nursing their alcoholic beverages; the glimpse of the waterfront through the windows. After dropping off their luggage and washing her face, her dad had led her on foot to a restaurant – the Boatyard Bar and Grill – located three blocks away. Based on the multitude of pictures and awards that decorated the walls and were close enough for her to see, the Boatyard had been nominated as the Best Family Friendly Restaurant in Annapolis in 2010 and was the home of the annual Boatyard Regatta and Chesapeake Bay's "Biggest Opening Day Tournament", a widely popular annual fishing tournament. As for cuisine, the restaurant offered a variety: seafood and raw bar; gourmet pizzas and paninis; burgers, steak, and jerk chicken; salads and soups; and sandwiches.

"What are you thinking about?" Her dad clarified, watching her across the table. "You've been really quiet ever since we landed in Baltimore."

Alex shrugged. "So have you."

"Okay," Steve said, fingers tapping the glass of the beer bottle he held in one hand. "Fair point." He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. "I've just been thinking, that's all." He looked around the restaurant, his mind flashing back to over a decade ago. "There are a lot of memories tied to this city."

"What are we doing here, Dad?"

"Eating dinner," he answered, looking down at his food. "What does it look like?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "You know that's not what I mean." She used her fork to further smash her smashed red skin potatoes. "What are we doing in Annapolis? And why are we only here for one night?"

"We are here for one night because we are going somewhere else for our vacation."

"Where?"

Steve smiled slyly. "You will find that out tomorrow night when we check in for our flight."

"Why do you have to be so secretive?" Alex mumbled, her tone bordering on grouchy.

"Because I'm the dad, that's why."

Alex rolled her eyes again. "Why are we here?" It wasn't even that she minded being in Annapolis – from the little she had seen of it so far, she felt like she would love exploring it. She just didn't understand why he couldn't let her in on his plans for their vacation.

"Because it's important for us to be here, okay?" he told her. A big reason why he had added this short stopover in Annapolis was because of the conversation he and Catherine had during their long flight to the Enterprise. Catherine had told him about Alex's breakdown the night of the Governor's Ball and how she had admitted to not being able to recall certain memories from when she was little. Alex's mind was full of memories of things she had done with him and her grandfather but practically entirely void when it came to memories she had shared with her mother. He, himself, did not have a large filing cabinet in his mind full of things she and Cindy had done together; for nine-and-a-half years, he hadn't been there for most of those things. Yet, what he could provide his daughter were _his_ memories from her life before Seattle. Hopefully that would help. "Do you trust me?"

"You're my dad," she said in that tone that always made him feel like she thought he was an idiot. "Of course I trust you."

"Good," he replied, giving her a smile and picking up his fork. Using the fork to point at her plate, he said, "Stop playing with your food and eat." Cutting a piece off of his NY Strip steak topped with bordelaise sauce, he continued, "I want you to get some sleep tonight. We have an early morning ahead of us."

Wondering if it was as just a lost cause as her other questions, she asked, "What do you have planned for us?"

Steve locked eyes with his daughter and held her gaze for a long minute. "I thought we could go for a run." Giving into a grin – the one that Alex labeled as "he thinks he's clever" – he added, "On the grounds of the Academy."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "The Academy? The Naval Academy?"

"Yep," he said, popping another piece of steak into his mouth.

"Awesome," Alex said, before breaking into a grin that she just could not hide. Her Dad thought he might have been clever by surprising her with a running tour of the college that had turned him into a Navy officer, and which she felt drawn to more and more on a daily basis, but the joke was on _him._ Touring a university full of guys in military uniforms, even if it would be at a running pace, was probably every high school girl's dream and, based on the thirty or so different Midshipmen she had already seen in their two hours in Annapolis, there was a good chance that she would get to see _a lot_ of cute guys in the morning.

* * *

Shifting in the uncomfortable seat, Alex rested her cheek on the cool pane of the airplane window. By now, the plane was somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean with an estimated five hours left until they landed in Paris. Yes, her dad was taking her to the city that she had longed to visit since she first started learning French when she was seven. She had been ecstatic when he had pulled out their passports and tickets after dropping off their rental car at the airport. Never in a million years would she have expected her dad to take her to that magical city of her dreams. Not to mention that this would be the first time she had ever left the United States. Once they had arrived at their departure gate after grabbing a bite to eat at one of the over-priced airport restaurants, she had asked to borrow her dad's phone – he had confiscated her phone again after Josh's self-harming incident – so she could call Brian and Alyssa and share the exciting news with them.

For all the excitement coursing through her veins as they waited for the overnight flight to depart, it was a major bummer when, after most of the passengers to include her dad had shut off their overhead lamps and settled in for the night, it had all faded away. It was replaced immediately by quiet, somber reflection. That had been an hour ago and since then she had been replaying their time in Annapolis over and over again in her mind. During their time there – with everywhere her dad took her – she had been numb, just trying to process everything. But now, in the quiet darkness that was only interrupted by the occasional cough of a nearby passenger, she was starting to feel a vast range of emotions.

They had risen at five and were at the Academy by five-thirty. During their seven-mile loop, they had encountered several cadets running in small groups throughout the campus and others working on situps, pushups, and other physical activities in the grass near the track. Her dad had explained that Academy students were responsible for their own personal fitness – rigorous, group physical fitness training only occurred during Plebe Summer – and many used the time before Reveille, which occurred at 0630 every morning, for that purpose. They had run along the waterfront, past the domed Naval Academy Chapel, past the Field House, by a statue of Tecumseh, along a street housing the High Ranking Officers Quarters, past MacDonough Hall and the Main Mast, and past memorials for Midway and for the Submarine Force.

Their starting and ending point had been in the shadow of beautiful and enormous Bancroft Hall. She had stood there during their cool-down stretches, staring up at the brick façade, feeling something inside of her that she had not been ready to deal with at the time. But, now, as she reflected back, she could face it. That feeling that had welled up inside of her had been a feeling of comfort, of familiarity, of home. It had been frightening – terrifying really – when it had first hit her; she could see herself in this place. Even now, removed from that place by eighteen hours and distance, she felt, with confidence and certainty, that just over three years from now she would be calling Bancroft Hall, the largest single dormitory in the world, her home. That thought scared her but not in the bad sense that one normally associated with it. It scared her because, even though she enjoyed Navy JROTC, the idea of one day following in her dad's footsteps by enrolling at the Naval Academy had never crossed her mind. Yet, now she had this feeling deep inside her that her life path would lead her to the Academy.

They had stuck around for Reveille and then headed back to Eastport House for showers and breakfast. Then, after checking out of the bed and breakfast, her dad had driven to Anne Arundel Medical Center, where, from a spot on the grass outside, he had told her she had been born there. He had retold her birth story and pointed out the window of the room where they had stayed while her mom recovered from her surgery. Her dad had gone into a deep level of detail, telling her everything about the moment her mom's water had broke at their apartment, the exciting yet terrifying drive to the hospital, the panic he had felt when they told them her mom would need a C-Section and the absolute fear he had felt when her mom had started to bleed out. Her dad had told her about being the first one to hold her and how she had captured his heart the moment her big eyes looked up at him. Her dad had told her about when Grandpa had showed up, surprising her dad, and how, after her mom had finally woken up from the effects of the anesthesia, her grandfather had captured many pictures of the three of them – happy parents and beautiful baby girl.

After that, he had driven to an apartment building, located only a few blocks from the Academy. He had ushered her to the third floor, knocking on the door to apartment 314 and then, after he introduced himself to the older man who answered the door, they stepped inside. Her dad had gone room-by-room in the small apartment, pointing out where her crib and, later, her bed had been in the nursery and what the furniture layout had been in the other rooms. Then he had told her about how she used to wait up for him to get home every night and how, for a long time, the only way she could fall asleep was if he was with her. He told her that her mom used to sing to her every night before bed and how the two of them would dance – sometimes with their daughter in their arms – in the living room or the kitchen. He told her about her first through fourth birthday parties and the Christmases celebrated in the apartment. He had even told her about the night he proposed to her mom which had been something she never knew he had done.

He took her down to the apartment complex pool where he had taught her how to swim and to an ice cream store down the street that they visited every Saturday afternoon before she had been diagnosed as lactose intolerant. He bought her lunch at a little deli, telling her that, once a week, all three of them used to have lunch together there. Then they went to the playground a couple of blocks away that she used to play at all the time. He then took her to the harbor where he said her mom used to take her to watch the sailboats every day.

She appreciated how much time her dad had spent sharing his memories with her. She was grateful for having a Dad who had taken the time to show her all of the places that she had frequented as a little kid. Yet, as much as she tried to, she couldn't bring to mind any of her own memories from when they had lived in Annapolis. She still could not recall memories of her Mom from when she was little. She wished there was some small mental image of her parents dancing happily together or of her watching the sailboats with her Mom. She wished she could remember all of those things and more. She couldn't even remember things from when they had first moved to Seattle; not that she wanted to go back there any time soon. She truly felt that not having certain memories was only making her mom's death harder on her.

She shifted in the seat again, pulling the blanket higher up so it was tucked under her chin. She was full of sadness and grief over her Mom's death. She was full of helplessness when it came to Josh. She was full of panic and fear; confusion and questions. And, for the first time, she was full of hatred for the man who had taken away two of her loved ones in less than 18 months. No, she did not have proof that Wo Fat was connected to whoever had hurt her Mom – she didn't even know _how_ her mom had been hurt – but the nauseating feeling in her gut told her that he was responsible. If she hadn't learned anything else in the ten-and-a-half months since she came to Hawaii, she had learned that her gut instinct had never failed her. Wo Fat had played a role in her mother's death, of that she was certain, and she hated him for it.

Hatred was a new feeling for her and she didn't like it. Hatred left a nasty taste in her mouth. It made her feel like she couldn't even recognize herself anymore. The Alex of a year ago was a far cry different than the strange person wearing her skin now.

"You're supposed to be getting some rest." Steve had woken up several minutes ago, surprised to find his daughter still awake and completely oblivious to him having woken up. He had just watched her as she looked out the window, her eyes filling with tears occasionally before she blinked them away, with other emotions replacing the tears.

Startling, Alex turned her head and looked at him. "Tell that to the million and one thoughts racing through my mind."

Resting his head back against the head rest, he eyed her. "You've been doing a lot of thinking today." His daughter had been very quiet throughout the mini tour of Annapolis he had given her. She had listened to him, taking everything in, but only asked a few questions of him. Her silence had always been a cause of concern for him but during their day in Annapolis, he had chosen to not mention it. He knew that she needed some time for everything he was showing her and sharing with her to set in; she needed time to process it all. But now, after seeing the vast array of emotions chasing each other across her face, he felt it was necessary to discuss it.

"There's been a lot to take in." Tears filled her eyes and she swiped a hand across her eyes. "I'm having a hard time remembering things about mom from when I was little. Things we did together, things we talked about." She shrugged. "Just things." She swallowed hard. "When Grandpa died I had so many memories of him. Yet I'm still losing my connection to him. Every day I feel like he's further and further away from me." Tears filled her eyes again and this time she let a solitary tear fall down her cheek. "And I'm afraid that not having many memories of Mom only means that I'm going to lose her sooner." She gave in to the rest of the tears, letting them fall freely. "I already feel like I've lost her entirely. I don't feel her presence like I did with Grandpa and I…" she trailed off, giving into a sniffle. "I need to say goodbye but how do you say goodbye to someone whose spirit you can't even feel anymore?"

* * *

**A/N: I've never been to Annapolis but…**

**Eastport House is real. It was built in the 1860's in the maritime (Eastport) district of Annapolis. It once served as a farmhouse, then a schoolhouse before becoming a guest house. It is located on the "quiet side" of the Spa Creed drawbridge, only half a block from the Harbor and one mile from downtown. A review on the trip advisor website stated the Eastport House Bed and Breakfast is no longer in business, having closed down something during the summer of 2012. I also took the owner's name in this chapter from the same trip advisor post which stated the long-time owner was named Susan.**

**The Boatyard Bar and Grill is also real, located three blocks from Eastport House, and their menu includes those things I described in this chapter. If you search for the restaurant by name you can find their website which does have a link to the regatta and "Opening Day Tournament". The restaurant really was named Best Family Friendly Restaurant in Annapolis in 2010. Whenever I do make it to Annapolis for the first time, I think I will have to sample the food at the Boatyard.**

**What did you think of Annapolis? Are you surprised that Steve is taking Alex to France? What do you think would help Alex with saying goodbye to her mom - would it be a "sign" of some sort, a memorial service, what? **


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Warning: this chapter may induce tears. **

**Thank you to:**

**Angel – Two days straight! Wow, thanks. I'm glad you enjoy Alex and Josh; you will see more of them eventually.**

**JM Reagan – No need to rush on catching up reading. I know you are busy and I tend to get kind of wordy with some of these chapters. **

**Craftygirl11 – Glad your Thanksgiving was good **** This chapter didn't quite go along with your suggestion of a funeral but I hope you enjoy it!**

**Narwhayley – Thanks. I love Paris (I used to live 4 hours from it and I miss it terribly)! Yes, the research can be pretty time consuming but I honestly feel that I would be doing readers a disservice if I try to write about a place I've never been and don't do research.**

**Francis2 – Paris is a good place for them to create new memories and, as you will see in this chapter, a way to get closure on two different fronts.**

**Guest – Happy belated birthday! Thanks for reading!**

**AnonGuest – Thanks. This chapter is also very emotional. I hope it doesn't cause too many tears!**

**Pinkphoenix1985 – Warning: you may sob with this chapter, too. **** Sorry. **

**FicreaderT – Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter which takes place in Paris!**

**Sunny irish – Thanks. I hope this chapter explains why he chose Paris. And, great minds think alike about the other idea you suggested ;) Hope this suffices! **

* * *

"Alex," Steve said, shrugging his shoulder so that it would nudge her head from where it was resting. After his daughter's breakdown earlier, she had sobbed quietly in his arms until falling asleep with her head on his shoulder. She had barely moved in the four hours since then. He laughed quietly to himself when she mumbled something incoherently, shifted in the seat and snuggled closer to his side. Resting his cheek against her head, he said, "We're going to be landing soon. Wake up and take your first look at Paris." That got her attention. In a flash, she was wide awake and gazing out the window.

"Dad, look," she said, putting her finger on the glass and pointing. "It's the Seine." It was just like all of the pictures she had seen. Only this was a thousand times better! When her dad leaned over to look out the window with her, her face broke into a huge smile. "And look, there's the Arc de Triomphe and the twelve streets that lead to it."

His daughter grew quiet after that but the smile on her face expressed everything she was thinking and feeling. It brought a smile to his face to see how excited she was; it was as if all the pain of a few hours earlier had vanished the second she laid eyes on Paris from above. He knew the pain would return but for now he would just rejoice in her excitement. His daughter was so lost in her own little world that she didn't react when the flight attendant came on the intercom telling passengers to raise their seatbacks. He tapped his daughter on the thigh and, when she looked at him, said, "Fix your seat and put your shoes back on."

She immediately pushed the button on the side of the arm rest, raising the seat back to its upright position. Then, she bent over, slid her feet into her unlaced sneakers, and tied them. Sitting back up, she asked, "How far is our hotel from the airport?"

"About half an hour."

"Where is our hotel exactly?"

Steve shrugged nonchalantly as if the location of their hotel was nowhere special. "Near the Champs Elysée."

Alex's mouth dropped open. "We're staying in the 8th arrondissement?"

"Aron what?"

Alex giggled. "Arrondissement, Dad. District. Paris is divided into twenty of them which are laid out in a clockwise spiral from the center of the city."

"Well, if that is the district where the Champs Elysée is," Steve said, "then yes."

"Awesome!" Alex glanced out the window again, the city getting closer and closer as her stomach dropped along with the plane's descent. She looked back at her dad. "Can we go to the Eiffel Tower after we check-in at the hotel?"

Steve shook his head. "Nope. Sightseeing won't start until tomorrow."

"What? Why?"

"Because I said so," he answered. Truth was, he was so damn exhausted from their travels – or, rather, the lack of sleep during their flight – and his head was pounding uncontrollably. "We'll check in, stroll down the Champs Elysée to find a place to eat, then go back to the hotel so you can spend a couple hours doing homework."

"But Dad –"

Steve cut her off with a shake of his head. "We already discussed the rules, Alex. You know you have to spend some time everyday keeping up with your schoolwork."

"Yeah, but –"

"No 'buts', Alex," he interrupted before telling her of his plans for the next day. "If you focus on your Art History tonight we can go to the Louvre tomorrow to see some of the paintings you're going to have to know about for your test."

"Really?" Alex asked, any annoyance she felt with him long forgotten. "You'll take me to the Louvre tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Only if you do your homework." She agreed right away and Steve had to force himself from giving into a pleased smirk. Whoever said bribery wouldn't work on a teenager had been mistaken. His daughter returned to looking out the window, the downtown part of the city disappearing as they approached the runway. Once the wheels touched down, Alex turned and looked at him.

"Why Paris?"

"What?"

"It's an expensive vacation."

Steve shrugged. "The price should not be a concern of yours, Sweetheart." When she opened her mouth to argue, he said, "You have an AP French exam next month." He shrugged again. "Thought this might be a good chance for you to get a lot of practice in before then."

Alex nodded. He had made a good point: being in France and communicating with native French speakers would certainly help prepare her for the exam. Yet, she knew there was more to this impromptu vacation, too. "And a good chance for us to get away from all the bad stuff at home."

* * *

"Pour moi, la jambe de l'agneau," Alex said, giving the waiter her order. "Pour mon papa, le veau braisé." Setting down the menu, she added, "S'il vous plait."

"Oui. Votre père voudrait-il une autre bière ?"

Alex looked at her dad. "Do you want another beer?"

"That'd be great," Steve answered, slightly in awe at his daughter's ease with using the French language. Sure, he had heard her speak French before but that had been short snippets of conversation. Today during their time at the Louvre – they had spent _all _day in the museum – she had surprised him with her level of fluency and how naturally the language just seemed to flow from her lips. Throughout their time at the Louvre, Alex had engaged in conversation with numerous other visitors and some of the museum staff. Even now, at dinner, she continued to amaze him with how perfectly _French_ she appeared. If he didn't know any better, he would think she was a native French speaker.

"Oui," Alex said to the waiter. "Peux j'avoir plus d'eau?" When the waiter acknowledged her request for a refill on her water, she said, "Merci beaucoup." As soon as the waiter left their table, she picked up her pen and started writing in the notebook that was on the table in front of her.

"What are you writing?" Steve asked, after a quiet minute of watching her.

"It's a journal," Alex said, not looking up from the notebook. "I'm writing about our day."

"Since when do you journal?" He remembered discovering her well-used notebook nearly a year ago on the night that she had been kidnapped, but he had never truly considered that a journal, per se. No, that was more of a series of lists – places she wanted to visit; things she wanted to do; people she wanted to meet; things she wanted to learn to do; and more – with the occasional magazine clipping – of historic landmarks both in the United States and abroad – taped to a page.

Alex shrugged, still writing in the notebook. Then, remembering that she had promised herself to be more open with her dad about certain things, she set the pen down and looked at him. "I'm writing about our trip in case I ever can't remember certain things." From the look in his eyes, she figured that he understood what she didn't say. She gave him a bright smile. "Today was a _great_ day and I want to be able to remember it forever."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the museum," he told her, appreciating her honesty about her fear of forgetting. He wasn't sure if Alex knew it or not but her mother's death had changed her. She wasn't as argumentative; she was more obedient. She had been quieter and more contemplative. She was more forthcoming about her thoughts and concerns. She asked for help more frequently and wasn't as stubborn as she used to be. As much as he enjoyed that she no longer fought him over everything and that she hadn't gotten in trouble for many weeks now, he hoped that Cindy's death hadn't altered their daughter for good. He never enjoyed arguing with her but her silence was worse. Sometimes her stubbornness had been downright frustrating but he missed that, too. Even if the changes in her were permanent, he would still love her. Yet, he longed to see certain things that had always made Alex who she was; he'd deal with those traits that had always frustrated the hell out of him if it meant he would see his daughter's smile on a more frequent basis. Earlier that day had gotten a glimpse of the smile and laughter of hers that he had been missing; maybe this trip was already helping her heal. "I had a good time, too."

That morning they had eaten the continental breakfast offered at the hotel. Then, with a map in Alex's hands and her art history textbook in his, they had walked the one-and-a-half miles to the Louvre, getting to the museum ten minutes before they opened for the day. Once inside, they picked up a museum tour guide – Alex finally acquiesced to getting an English version instead of the one written in French – and started their tour on the lower ground floor, beginning with the History of the Louvre and Medieval Louvre Collection. Alex had truly been fascinated – even he had been impressed – by the nearly one-thousand years of history of the building.

Originally built as a fortress in 1190 to protect the city from the Anglo-Norman threat, the only remaining part of the medieval interior is the Salle Basse, or Lower Hall, in which they had stood. Later, in the mid-fourteenth century, the Louvre lost its defensive function when Paris spread beyond the original wall thereby requiring new defensive structures to be built. In 1364, the old fortress was transformed into a royal residence for Charles V and, in the 16th century, it was demolished and replaced with Renaissance-style buildings in a reconstruction that lasted well over a century. After that, the building had undergone numerous additional reconstructions, finally opening its doors as The Museum Central des Arts in 1793. The first collection at the museum contained mostly paintings from the collections of the French royal family. Over the next three-quarters of a century, artwork from the Vatican, Florence, Egypt, Spain, Assyria, Mexico, Algeria, and Greece filled the halls of the museum. The birth of the modern Louvre began in 1882 with further restorations and renovations to both the interior and exterior taking place. New exhibits, to include Iranian and Asian, appeared around that time. More than a hundred years later, the iconic glass Pyramid that was world renowned opened, with new exhibition spaces opening soon after. The transformation of the palace from a building which served as the seat of royal power to one that was devoted entirely to culture and art had been intriguing. So much so, that Alex had expressed interest in possibly using the Louvre as the topic for her end-of-the-semester paper for Art History.

After learning about the history of the place, they had headed to the sculptures room, discovering sculptures of Mary Magdalene, the dying Cleopatra, the Fountain of Diana, Napoleon, the god Neptune, Virgin and Child, and, much to Steve's discomfort, a very nude and well-endowed Spartacus. After that, they headed upstairs to visit the Greek, Etruscan, and Roman Antiquities, to include, much to Alex's delight, the statue of Venus de Milo. They had spent some time, using her textbook as a guide, studying the different types of funeraries, goblets, and amphoras so she would be able to distinguish between them on her upcoming exam. Then they visited the Egyptian Antiquities, checking out the Colossal Statue of Ramses II, Chelidona's Coffin, a fragment of the Book of the Dead, multiple funerary statues, a statue of Horus, a mummy of a man from 332 BC, canopic jars, and a handful of sarcophagi. From there they had moved to the Near Eastern Antiquities where they saw Assyrian writing tablets, fertility idols, Friezes from the Royal Palace of Darius, a stele with the Law Code of Hammurabi engraved on it, mosaics, and mural paintings.

By then it had been lunch time so he had forced his excited, yearning to learn more and see everything, curious daughter to take a break from the art exhibits to eat. They had chatted throughout the whole meal about everything they had seen so far and, after being interrupted once by a teenage boy who had engaged in conversation – in French! – with a giggling Alex, headed back to the exhibits to see all of the prints, drawings, and paintings. The night before, during her studying, Alex had made a list of paintings she had wanted to see, not knowing if they were all housed in the Louvre or not. As a result, they had physically laid eyes on every single painting housed in the museum. They had managed to cross off about half of her list, having seen Francken's _Allegory of Fortune_, Rembrandt's _Bathsheba at Her Bath_, El Greco's _Christ on the Cross_, Bellini's _Crucifixion_, Caravaggio's _Death of the Virgin_, Delacroix's _July _28, Jacques-Louis David's _Madame Recamier_, Raphael's _Saint Michael_, Murillo's _The Angels' Kitchen_, Piazzeta's _The Assumption of the Virgin_, Subleyras _The Meal at the House of Simon_, and, of course, DaVinci's _The Virgin of the Rocks _and, after waiting in line for what seemed like forever, the_ Mona Lisa_. It was true what people said: the Mona Lisa's eyes really did seem to follow you wherever you moved.

They had finished out their visit by strolling through the Tuileries Gardens where they visited the Musée de l'Orangerie, home to Monet's _Waterlilies_ canvas. Finally able to use the camera that he had been toting around all day, he and Alex had taken pictures of everything – flowers, fountains, statues – in the Gardens as well as each other. They had even managed to get a decent picture of them together with the distant Arc de Triomphe behind them thanks to a friendly American tourist who had offered to snap a photo of them. Then, taking the long route back to the hotel, they strolled along the Seine, stopping at souvenir shops on the way. Of course, their trip back would not have been complete without Alex flirting with one of the young teenage sale clerks at the small bookstore they had stopped in. So much for a stress free vacation.

"Dad."

At the sound of his name, Steve came out of his reverie to find his daughter staring at him from across the table. Her notebook was closed and pushed to the side of the table. In front of him on the table were a new beer and the salad that came with his meal. For how long had he been sitting there reflecting on their day? He shook his head to clear it. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Her eyes showed serious concern for him. "You kinda zoned out for awhile."

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat and taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah," he repeated, giving her a smile. "I was just thinking about our day, that's all. I really enjoyed it." He never had really particularly cared for art museums before but just being with his daughter, watching her learn new things and knowing how much she had been enjoying herself, made him enjoy it, too.

"I thought you would have been bored within five minutes," Alex commented, sampling her salad. Swallowing the first forkful, she said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For Annapolis," she answered, taking a sip of water. "For bringing me to Paris. For today." Her face turned serious. "I know why we're taking a vacation – I know it's because we both needed to get away from home for awhile – and I just want to say thank you for setting a good example by showing me how important it is to do what you have to in order to get better. You're a good dad."

* * *

Their second full day in Paris began with a visit to Notre-Dame where they climbed the cathedral towers to see breathtaking views of the city and detailed looks at the spire, gargoyles, roof, and the Emmanuel Bell before joining in on a free tour that examined the cathedral's history, stained glass, paintings, architecture and sculptures. After that, they stuck around for the nine a.m. Catholic Mass, conducted entirely in French, just for the purposes of experiencing something new. Then they had headed across the Seine to the Luxembourg Palace, seat of the French Senate, and nearby 25-hectare Luxembourg Garden that contained numerous statues, ponds, apple and pear tree orchards, and a puppet theater. Then, after grabbing lunch at a little corner café, they had roamed the streets without an end in mind, just enjoying being immersed in the everyday Parisian culture. During that, they had come across the Eglise Saint-Sulpice, a huge, Late Baroque Catholic parish church that Alex had recognized from the movie _The DaVinci Code_. Due to the south tower never having been finished, the church had a lopsided appearance to it yet that did nothing to take away from the spectacularly beautiful interior, which contained the Delacroix frescoes, a statue of the Virgin, enormous stained glass windows, and one of the world's largest organs that Alex had wished she had been able to play.

Their third day in the city consisted of a visit to the Pantheon, which had originally been built as a church but later, after the French Revolution, had been converted to a mausoleum. The subterranean chamber of the building contained a crypt, the final resting place for many well known and historically famous French scientists, poets, and writers, to include Voltaire, Marie Curie, Louis Braille and, to Alex's delight – he was one of her favorite authors – Victor Hugo. In addition to the visually amazing interior architecture, nearly the entire city could be seen from the building, giving Steve the opportunity to snap a few pictures that he was sure Alex would have framed as soon as they got back home. Afterwards, Alex had insisted on visiting the nearby Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, a small church that contained the tomb of Blaise Pascal as well as a shrine to St. Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris. For some reason, Alex had developed a keen interest in churches, their history, and the different stained glass found in each one. Later that day they had walked off their heavy lunches – chicken tajine with lemon for Alex and pork filet mignon with mustard sauce for Steve – by strolling through one of the many campuses of the University of Paris as well as the Jardin des Plantes, the main botanical garden of the city.

They visited the Eiffel Tower and Chaillot Palace on their fourth day in the city. Due to not having engaged in their typical exercise routine – swimming and running – they both had agreed to climb the 1,652 steps of the Tower. Once reaching the second level, located at 377 ft above ground, they had stood in line, taking in the panoramic view of the city, before taking the elevator to the very top of the monument. After filling up the rest of Steve's camera memory card taking pictures from that observation level, they had spent some time in the gift shop before taking the elevator back down. After locating a store where he bought another memory card, they had a picnic lunch at the base of the tower. Then, they headed down the street to the Chaillot Palace, which provided more excellent photo opportunities of the Eiffel Tower, and housed a must-see for Steve: the Naval Museum.

The fifth day of their French vacation dawned early for Alex. When she woke up, it was still relatively dark outside and her dad was snoring in the bedroom's second bed. She didn't want to disturb him – he had not had a single nightmare since they left Hawaii – so she headed out to the balcony, quietly sliding the door closed behind her. Sitting in one of the chairs, she propped her feet up on the balcony rail and listened as the city came to life below her. Heavenly aromas wafted from a nearby bakery. The now familiar street cleaner, in his baggy green jumper, used his green wiry broom to push stagnant water – it had rained the night before – in the direction of a storm drain. Tables and chairs were being set up outside the café on the corner. As she sat there, enjoying the gentle breeze that warmed her face, she found herself thinking about her Mom.

She had lost two loved ones in less than eighteen months. Although both deaths had been the result of violence, they had been so different from the other. How she dealt with each one had been different. Her whole frame of mind had been different with each one.

Even though she had never been a devoutly, religious or spiritual person, after her grandfather's death she had had no issues with believing in heaven. Even though she had felt like a part of her heart had been ripped out and, despite crying herself to sleep every night, she had still felt like her grandfather's spirit was with her, that he was up in heaven looking down on her. Ever since her mom had died, though, she had started questioning her Christian belief in heaven. If death was not the end but rather something that led to eternal life, then why did her mother's death feel so final? If there really was a heaven, shouldn't she be able to feel some sort of hope that she would see her mom again one day? She had tried, in the days and weeks since that day when her mom breathed her last, to believe that her Mom was around her and in heaven, but then the fear that she was just gone, never to be seen or felt again, would take a hold of her.

Her relationship with her mom had never been anything like the relationship she had had with her grandfather; they were never exactly close. Years of different interests, differing viewpoints on _everything, _and just being too McGarrett had led to that. Yet, even still, she found herself so angry with the God she still believed in for not allowing her mother to come to her in some way to comfort her, to ease her fears, to reassure her that there was more to life than just a physical existence.

The sound of a too-loud truck horn startled Alex and she opened her eyes. It was only then that she noticed the butterfly that was resting peacefully on her hand. It wasn't just any butterfly – it was a Mazarine Blue, her mother's favorite butterfly. Just like that, her mind was flooded with memories from when she was young: her mom reading a story to her in bed; singing together in the car on the way to school; dance parties in the living room; ice skating at the Highland Ice Arena; her mom pushing her on the swings; take-your-daughter-to-work days; bike rides through the park; waking up on Saturday mornings to the smell of blueberry pancakes cooking. The smile on her face grew when a second Mazarine Blue landed on her hand. Suddenly, when a third one landed there, this incredible sense of peace took over her body. And, for the first time in a very long time, she felt nothing but warmth associated with memories of her Mom.

"Mornin', Sweetheart," Steve greeted, stepping onto the balcony. He stopped in his tracks when he saw both the blissful look on his daughter's face and the three butterflies on her hand. He stepped closer, taking the open seat, and took a closer look at the butterflies. "Mazarine Blues," he observed, a look of surprise on his face. He looked at his daughter. "Mazarine Blues were –"

"Mom's favorite butterfly," Alex interrupted, a smile on her face that nearly reached her eyes. She tore her eyes from the insects to look at her dad. Giving into a pleased laugh, she said, "I remember. I remember ice skating and bike riding and trips to the park. I remember her teaching me how to read and how she used those letter magnets to teach me how to spell. I remember." She smiled again. "Mom's okay, Dad. She's still here."

* * *

"Il est ici?"

"Oui," the parish reverend told her. Pointing to a side door of the chapel, he explained, "Il a sorti par cette porte."

Quickly thanking him in French, she pushed past her dad and out the side door that her stepfather had apparently just used to leave the church. Ever since she had seen the butterflies that morning, she had had this strange feeling that something unexpected was going to take place. Instead of their original plans – Sacre Coeur, Parc du Monceau, Cimetiere Montmarte, and St Pierre de Montmarte – for the day, Alex had asked if they could just have a leisurely day strolling through the city. She had felt something pull at her innermost being as if some hidden compass inside of her had locked on to due north, leaving her no choice but to follow whatever direction that feeling led her in.

They had walked close to three miles – the tracker on Alex's watch told them that – after weaving through the city in a random pattern before Alex stopped dead in her tracks in front of a small café. She was staring at a small, rounded blue sign jutting out of the side of a building; white letters told her it was Saint Michael's Church. When her heart had started pounding she knew that she needed to head inside of the church that she had never even heard of before. The second she stepped inside the church, her dad right on her heels, a small voice inside of her head had told her that this was the place where her Mom and David had gotten married nearly a year ago. She had continued on inside the church, approaching the Evangelical Reverend that was lighting candles near the altar. She had spoken to him in French, asking if there was any way to determine if her mom had been married there. He had led her over to the lectern where a book of parish records was open and, surprisingly, he pointed immediately to the line that recorded the marriage of David Connors and Cynthia Aberdeen. That was when the Reverend had told her that David had just vacated the premises, exiting out the side door of the church. In that brief moment, Alex knew _exactly_ what she needed to do; she knew what the butterflies had been sent to her to do.

She exited the church through the side door, taking off down the alley in a run. She heard her dad calling her name from somewhere behind her but she didn't stop. She reached the end of the alley, stopping on the sidewalk to look left, then right, her eyes searching the crowded walkway for the man that she had never liked and who, never without fail, had always made her feel like she was never deserving of being loved. A slight parting of the crowd down the sidewalk to her left allowed her to spot the man with the all-too familiar gait. Shouting his name, she ran after him, catching up to him at the next intersection.

"Alex?" David said, a look of absolute surprise on his face. "Steve?"

"David," Steve grunted out, taking half of a step in front of his daughter, positioning himself between his daughter and the man who he still wanted to beat the living daylights out of for hurting Alex.

"What are you doing here?" David asked, a look of shock still on his face. He gave into an uncomfortable, grief filled laugh. "This is so strange." He had woken up only a few days ago with the strangest feeling that he needed to travel to Paris and that he needed to take his wife's ashes with him. The feeling had been so strong that he had cancelled all of his work meetings and, instead, boarded a flight to Paris. Since he had landed two days ago, he had just walked around the city aimlessly, wondering what on earth he was doing back in the city where he had wed Cindy. He had never planned on returning to St. Michael's – it was just too painful to remember his wedding and the woman that he had lost – yet that was exactly where had found himself twenty minutes ago. Talking to the reverend that had married them, he still had not understood why he was in Paris. But now, seeing his step-daughter and her father, he had a sudden epiphany. He gave into another laugh that told them just how unbelievable he found all of this to be. "It's her. Cindy. I think she's why I'm here. She led me here." He removed the backpack from his shoulders and, squatting down, set it on the sidewalk. Unzipping the large pouch, he reached in and pulled out an urn. Standing back up, he placed it in Alex's hands. "You should have these. You are the only who should have a say as to what happens with them."

"_Your grandfather was a great man."_

"_Yeah, he was," Alex said, her eyes scanning her grandfather's tombstone. She glanced to her left at her mom. "What are we doing here?" Her mom had, strangely and so out of character, insisted they stop by Punchbowl before she dropped her back off at Five-0 Headquarters after her visit. _

"_Pere Lachaise," Cindy answered, taking a seat in the grass next to her daughter. _

"_What?" Alex recognized the name as being French but she had absolutely no idea what it had to do with them. _

"_It's a cemetery in Paris." Cindy reached out and ran a tender hand through her daughter's hair. "It's where my grandparents are buried."_

_This was the first time her mother had ever mentioned her grandparents; Alex didn't even know very much about her mom's parents. "Your grandparents are buried in France? Why?"_

"_My mom's maiden name was Saulnier. Born in France, raised in California." Seeing the surprise on her daughter's face, Cindy laughed. "Yes, you have a little bit of French in your blood. That's why it never surprised me when you picked up the language so easily." _

"_Did your Mom speak French?" Alex asked, curious about the woman who had died when her Mom was still a teenager. "How did your grandparents end up buried in France if they lived in California?"_

"_She did speak French," Cindy answered. "Fluently, but she never really taught me any of it." She gave her daughter a smile, stroking Alex's hair. "As for my grandparents – they purchased their burial plots when they first got married, vowing to each other that their final resting place would be in the city where they grew up. Even though they moved away, they could never quite lose the Parisian inside of them." She let her comments linger in the breeze for a few minutes. "My mom wanted to be buried there, too." With a tear in her eye, she continued, "It was the one thing she wanted that my Dad had never been able to give her." _

"_I'm sorry." It was all Alex could say because her mind was trying to digest everything she had just learned. Her mom had always been so secretive about her childhood, her parents' deaths, and any extended family that she might have had. _

"_It's okay." Flicking a loose blade of grass off of her dress pants, she said, "When David and I went to France for our wedding… I took my Mom's ashes and scattered them in the cemetery's Garden of Remembrance." _

"_Is that why you want to be cremated?" Her mom had mentioned it before, after deaths of friends who had wanted to be buried. She always had said she didn't want to be stuck in a box and buried in the ground. "Because your Mom was?"_

_Cindy shook her head. "No. My preference for being cremated goes back to my claustrophobia; that's the only reason." _

_Alex nodded her head in understanding. Then, after trying to figure out why they were having a conversation about after-death preferences and cemeteries, she asked, "Mom, why are –"_

"_Pere Lachaise," Cindy interrupted, placing a kiss to her daughter's temple. "Pere Lachaise, Alexandra. Always remember that."_

It didn't make any sense at the time but, now that her Mom was dead, she understood. Her Mom was telling her where she wanted her ashes to be scattered. Choosing to momentarily ignore the recognition that her Mom might have known she was going to be killed, Alex took the urn from David and, with sorrow in her voice, said, "Thank you." With a brief glance at her dad, she added, "I already know what to do with them."

An extremely sorrowful and humanizing look appeared on David's face. Then, with the slightest of nods, he turned and started to walk away. Alex watched him for a few seconds and then, looking up at her dad, handed him the urn before jogging after David. Reaching him, she stuck out her hand and touched him on the arm. When he turned around, she hugged him, surprising both David and Steve, who by then had caught up with them. "Thank you for loving my Mom." She backed out of his embrace. She looked at her dad then back at David. "We all loved her – all three of us. You should be there with us to say goodbye."

* * *

As much as he hated David – it had taken nearly all of his willpower to not beat the crap out of the guy – the day had served as a lesson in "letting go" for Steve. He had not liked it when his daughter had run out of the church, searching for the step-father that had physically abused her. He had not liked it when she had found him on the sidewalk; he did not like how close she had stood to him. He especially did not like it when Alex had hugged David and it had just about caused him to blow a gasket when she invited David to go scatter Cindy's ashes. Yet, despite his own feelings about the man, Steve had known that his daughter needed the chance to say goodbye to her mother and he knew in his heart of hearts that only she knew what she needed to get some closure. So, he had let go of his control over her – he let go of trying to guide her decision to one that he thought would be more satisfying – by giving her the independence in making the choice to include David in her plans.

He hadn't said a word – none of them had – when Alex had, after pulling out the street map and locating wherever she was taking them, led them into a metro station and onto a subway car on Line 2, before disembarking at the stop named "Pere Lachaise". He had remained quiet as she led them out of the subway, up to the street level, and into a cemetery with the same name as the metro stop. The cemetery apparently was a local tourist attraction and it hadn't been until they walked past the grave of Jim Morrison that he vaguely recalled having read about this place before. The cemetery was large and very old, rich with sculptures and monuments, and he had seen at least two war memorials. The gravesites ranged from simple, unadorned headstones to towering monuments and elaborate mini chapels and mausoleums. He had also remained quiet when Alex had led them to a headstone with the names Edouard Saulnier and Amelie Saulnier and, after standing in quiet reflection for a few minutes, muttered, "It was the truth." Then she had led them to the East side of the cemetery, stopping in the _Jardin du Souvenir_, which Alex had explained meant "Garden of Remembrance".

He and David had quietly and patiently stood there while Alex talked to Cindy. She had rambled on about things they had done together. She had told Cindy about how much she missed her. She talked about the butterflies and thanked Cindy for bringing David to Paris at the same time they were here. Just prior to opening the urn, Alex had asked both he and David to say something; she asked if they wanted to say goodbye. David, obviously way too stricken by grief, had talked briefly about his love for Cindy before choking up and taking a few steps backwards. When it had been his turn to speak, all he had been able to say were two things. First, he thanked Cindy for giving him their daughter. Second, he promised to take care of Alex. Then the breeze rolled in and Cindy's ashes were scattered throughout the garden.

Now, he found himself just standing there, his daughter on his left and David on his right, in absolute silence. They each were continuing their private goodbyes to the woman who had left such an impact – both good and bad – on their lives. When he looked at his daughter, he had expected to see tears rolling down her cheeks. Yet, her eyes were completely dry; Alex looked to be at peace. He continued to watch her and was surprised when Alex spoke up, her words directed to David. The short conversation that followed shocked him.

"I forgive you."

With tears in his eyes, David looked at her. "What?" It was not the words he had ever expected to hear.

"I forgive you," Alex repeated, looking him dead in the eyes while stepping closer to him. "You hurt me but it's okay; you are forgiven."

"Alexandra, I –"

"You loved my Mom," Alex interrupted. "You loved her so much and that's all that matters. Thank you for loving her with your whole heart and soul."

Extremely humbled by the teenager's actions and words, he allowed a single tear to escape from his eye. When he spoke, it was the most heartfelt words he had spoken to the teenager. "I am so sorry, Alexandra." He hugged her briefly and then turned and walked away.

Alex just watched him as he left the garden and headed into the rows of tombstones. The silence was broken when she heard her dad say, "You forgive him?"

Alex looked at him briefly then her line of vision drifted to the direction where Cindy's ashes had scattered. "I did it for Mom and I did it for him. Mom would want me to forgive him and he's devastated enough as it is." She looked at him again. This time, tears were falling down her cheeks. "I did it for them."

* * *

**A/N: It is illegal in France to scatter ashes in public places. Ashes are allowed to be scattered in the Garden of Remembrance described in this chapter. In reality, a permit is required to do so but for the purposes of this story I made it so that a permit was not required.**

**It has been nearly 15 years since I have used any of the minimal French language I knew. Please accept my apologies if any of the French here is not entirely accurate. **

**The last time I visited Paris was eight years ago but everything – every museum, landmark, church – is real. St. Michael's Church is real. The café that was mentioned as being next door to that church is real. All of the artwork described as being at the Louvre really is found at the Louvre. The food they ate at dinner is food that can be found on many Parisian Restaurant menus. **

**Also, I hope no one was offended with the little bit of religious/spiritual undertones in this chapter. In no way was I trying to question/enforce anyone's personal beliefs. My muse demanded it be written and I obliged. **

**Question: I'm not sure what everyone thinks about David's return in this chapter. Please let me know your thoughts on that – good or bad, it doesn't matter. **


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews on the last chapter. Sorry for the slow turn-around time with posting this chapter... between work, insomnia, and utter exhaustion, this chapter was a beast to write. Hopefully it turned out better than I think it did. **

**That said, I leave soon for a work trip out of town. It would be so awesome if, upon my return, I see a large number of reviews for this chapter (or just the story in general)... I'm shooting for 15, if you don't mind obliging ;) **

**Warning for cursing. Also, some spiritual discussion based on the last chapter... if that's not your cup of tea, you can skip it. **

* * *

After they finished scattering Cindy's ashes, they had walked – Alex had refused to take the metro again – the four miles back to the hotel, only stopping to grab dessert crêpes – due to their emotional day, Steve had given into the extremely rare desire to trade a healthy lunch with a fattening, high calorie dessert – at a place located just down the street from their hotel. Alex, who had sensed that something was off with her really quiet dad, had insisted on getting them to go so they had hand carried them back to the hotel room where, while they ate, they had started to make a list of everything they still wanted to do during their time in Paris. It wasn't lost on her when, while she used the map in the guidebook to plot out what sights were in close vicinity to one another, her dad had grown quiet again. Hoping he would say something, she sat in silence, hunched over the guidebook, for several long minutes. Finally, she stopped what she was doing and watched him. He was staring out the door that led to the balcony; a distant look in his eyes. It took her calling his name three times before he responded.

"What?" She just stared back at him, trying to figure out what exactly was in his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yes," she answered, nodding her head. "I'm fine. Are you?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah, I'm good."

"That's your fake smile," she stated, calling him out on his lie. When he gave her a look that told her he was going to argue, she added, "I know all of your smiles, Dad. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Sweetheart," Steve lied. "It's just been an exhausting day, that's all." _Emotional, too. And I'm not just talking about saying goodbye to your Mom. _

"You should call Catherine," Alex suggested. Catherine was probably the only person who could actually get her dad to admit to whatever it was he was feeling. When he didn't make a move to grab his phone off of the table, she said, "Is Mom the reason you aren't happy anymore? Or is it David?"

"Not ha…?" He trailed off, giving her a look of surprise. "I _am_ happy."

"You _were_ happy but now you're not," Alex argued. She shrugged. "I mean, being here was definitely helping you. You look better and you've been happier than you were back at home." She swallowed a lump in her throat as she stood up with the remnants of her lunch in hand. "Sorry if I messed that up for you today." She started walking away, moving around the small table, headed towards the trash can in the small kitchenette. As she moved past her dad, he reached out a hand and grabbed her arm.

"You didn't mess anything up," he said, looking up at her.

She just stared at him for several seconds. Then, blinking, she said, "Since you're not going to call her, mind if I do?"

With a resolved sigh, Steve handed her his phone. As she deposited the trash into the can and headed towards the bedroom, he tried to rub the tension out of his neck. Great, now he had his daughter thinking she was the reason for his crabby attitude…

* * *

"Hey, Cath," Steve greeted, sitting in the chair that his daughter had vacated less than twenty seconds ago.

"Hey, Sailor," Catherine returned, sensing in his tone exactly what Alex had described to her. "Alex told me all about your day. How are you doing?"

"Alex seems to have gotten closure which is good."

"Yeah it is," Catherine agreed. "Did you?"

"Get closure?" Steve sighed before admitting, "I don't know. I just – I keep thinking about my Dad."

"Your dad?"

Steve expelled a breath. "He never got closure with my Mom. It just makes me wonder, that's all."

"Wonder what exactly?" Catherine probed gently; she knew that he needed to get off his chest whatever it was that was on his mind.

"I…" he trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My dad spent the rest of his life trying to track down whoever killed my mom. Maybe there never is any closure when it comes to the death of your child's mother."

"Is that what you want to do?" Catherine asked, hoping he wouldn't answer in the affirmative. "Track down Cindy's attacker?"

"No," Steve answered. "No," he repeated. "I'm not my father; I can't do that to my daughter."

"Steve –"

"I'm fine," he insisted, interrupting her. "I just… I never wanted Alex to lose Cindy this early in life. I never wanted her life to resemble mine at all."

"I hate that Alex had to lose her Mom at such a young age, just like you did," Catherine told him. "But that's where the similarities end, Babe. You're not going to send her away. You're going to stay actively involved in her life. You –"

"I would _never_ send her away," Steve declared. He thought for a minute, thinking back to the teary eyed girl that had just handed him his phone. "Wait, is that _why_ she was upset? Does she think I'm going to send her away like –"

"I don't think that notion has entered her mind at all," Catherine interrupted, wanting to stop Steve's panic mode before it started. "But you really need to talk to your daughter." After a long two minutes of absolute silence, Catherine said, "I'm proud of you."

"For what?"

All she needed to say was one word. "David."

Steve sighed. "It took just about everything inside of me to not beat the shit out of that son-of-a-bitch." He expelled a trembling breath. "Still actually want to track him down and…" he trailed off, glancing over his shoulder to look through the closed sliding glass door and into the bedroom where Alex was lying, curled up on her side, facing away from him. "I – I couldn't let Alex be witness to that."

"Like I said, I'm proud of you," Catherine told him again. "I know how hard that must have been for you."

Steve exhaled loudly, releasing some of the pent up tension. "I just don't get it. She _forgave_ him."

"It's part of her healing process, Steve," Catherine replied. "You and I both know how toxic anger can be. Her forgiving him is a good thing; you can't be mad at her for that. I actually think it's a pretty admirable trait of hers – that ability to forgive and move on – and it's something that many of us could learn from."

Steve sighed. "I'm not mad at her, Cath, and I'm glad that she found closure."

"But?" Cath said, sensing there was more.

"But nothing," Steve countered, not really in the mood to get into it any further. "I'll talk to her, okay?"

"Good." Catherine gave into a laugh. "You two are something else, you know that?"

"What?" His question was completely innocent.

Catherine continued laughing. "You're just two peas in a pod." _Both of you are so stubborn. _It should be so easy for the two of them to talk to each other yet, more times than not, it took a middle party, most often her, to get them to communicate about emotional matters.

Her amusement, even if it was at his expense, brought a genuine smile to his face. "When are you coming home again?"

"Miss me, Sailor?" Her tone was still joyous and carried an air of amusement in it.

"All the time. Every day." When Catherine got silent, he realized that what he thought he had said in his head had really been spoken out loud. He loved her, of that there was no doubt, and he had expressed missing her in the past but he had never actually admitted that he missed her all the time. He never vocalized that he went to bed every night wishing she was there with him. And it wasn't even a matter of strictly physical desire; her mere presence just had an effect on him like no one else did. She brought him a sense of peacefulness – she was his calm in the storm. She provided him with a sense of security and freedom – he could express any and every emotion without being judged. Along with his daughter, Catherine gave him hope and love, contentment and purpose, normality and stability. She was part of his ohana and, for the first time, with frightening clarity, he could actually see her becoming even more than that to him. "Cath, I –"

"I miss you, too," Catherine said, coming out of her momentary shock. She knew Steve loved her. She knew he missed her but the certainty that had been in his voice, the immensity of his declaration, told her that their relationship had definitely moved to a different level than it had been before this current deployment. "And three weeks."

"Three weeks?" A smile graced his face. "Soon." Life had been moving at such a rapid pace, especially since Cindy's death, it hadn't occurred to him that that much time had gone by.

"I get home four days before Alex's birthday party." Alex's birthday was the sixteenth of May; her party was scheduled for the twelfth, which was the Saturday before.

"Great!" Steve exclaimed. "Now you can help me deal with a house full of teenage girls."

"I thought she was having a co-ed barbecue and beach party at your house?" The last time they had talked about it, Steve had been totally against the idea at first but she had managed to help convince him to allow Alex to invite both boys and girls to her birthday party. It would be supervised – Steve had told Alex that there would be many chaperones in the form of the Five-0 taskforce plus Malia – and he made her promise that, at no time, would any one girl be alone with any one boy.

"She is," Steve replied, his tone expressing that he was still not pleased about the co-ed party. "But all the girls are staying for a sleepover." He sighed, imagining the giggling, boy talk, and planned activities that he was sure would give him a headache. "I think they plan on having a spa night or something since Alex asked me to stock up on nail polish, nail files and emery boards, facial masks and a bunch of other girly supplies." The one thing that he had absolutely refused to buy was makeup. He was sticking by his strict rule that Alex was not allowed to wear makeup until she was _at least _seventeen.

Catherine laughed. "Oh, Babe, they're going to drive you absolutely crazy. Tell you what: how about you make plans to sleep on Danny's couch that night? I'll stay with the girls."

"Really, Cath? That would be awesome." He dropped his voice; it took on a slightly seductive tone. "I, uh, I would owe you."

"What else is new?"

* * *

"I know you're not asleep," he said, tapping his daughter on the calf. "Roll over and look at me."When she did do as he requested, damp eyes met his. "Why are you upset?"

"I just want you to be happy again."

"I am happy, Sweetheart," he insisted. He smiled at her. "I am and that's the truth." Seeing the doubt still in her eyes, he explained, "I'm just trying to come to terms with everything that happened today."

She shifted so that her head was further up on the pillow. "What do you mean?"

He reached over and brushed her hair out of her face. "It was a weird day for me: the butterflies; the church; David; the cemetery." He shook his head. "There was a time when I would have just accepted all of it but it's not that easy anymore."

"Was that before your Mom died?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah." He scratched his head. "Her death changed me."

Alex sat up, nudging her dad with her feet as she swung her bent legs so that they dangled off the side of the bed. "So you don't believe in God or divine intervention or…" she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. "Or whatever it was that happened today?"

"I believe in God," he told her. He'd seen enough terrible things in life that it probably wouldn't surprise anyone if he doubted the existence of any higher being. Yet, he'd seen so many incredible things, things that could only described as miraculous, that it made him still hold onto some type of belief system. "And I've seen several things that I can only describe as being miracles." His daughter's birth was one of those things. Watching a buddy have his right leg blown off by an IED and then lose an enormous amount of blood – he'd seen guys die from losing less – yet still survive would be another. Being shot in the chest and only surviving because the bullet struck his dog tags – a quarter of an inch to the left and he would have died – was yet another. "But today…" He shook his head. "I don't know, Sweetheart, it's just taking me longer to process it than it took you."

"Do you think it was Mom?" Alex asked him. "Do you think it was her… her spirit?"

Steve nodded slowly. "I don't see any other explanation for it." He expelled a deep breath. "And honestly I think that is why I'm so slow in coming to terms with it. The realization that your Mom found a way to communicate with you today… it's just been a little…"

"Surprising?" Alex guessed. "Shocking? Unbelievable?"

"It's made me see your Mom in an entirely different light, that's all."

Alex nodded, completely understanding what he was saying. "I think…" she started, finally expressing something that had been bugging her for a couple of hours. She locked eyes with him. "I think she knew she was going to die."

"What?" That had not been something he had ever expected his daughter to say.

"The cemetery," Alex said, her thought racing a million miles a minute. Her mom's words echoed in her head. _Pere Lachaise, Alexandra. Pere Lachaise, always remember that. _Realizing her comment had not explained anything to her Dad, she told him, "Those graves we stopped at? They were Mom's grandparents." She stood up and started to pace as she told him everything about that day at her grandfather's burial site and the conversation she had had with her Mom. "I didn't understand at the time but now I understand that she was telling me where she wanted her ashes scattered. She wanted to be with her Mom and grandparents." She stopped in front of her dad, facing him. "She knew she was going to die, Dad."

Steve nodded. If only his daughter knew how right her statement was; Cindy _had_ known she was being followed and she knew that death was a possibility. "That's definitely a possibility."

"Really?"

Steve nodded again. "Yes, it is." Cindy would not have been the first person he had known who had felt like they were going to die. On several of his deployments he had met many young Soldiers, Airmen, Sailors, and Marines who had sensed their impending deaths. He reached out and grabbed his daughter's hand. Squeezing it, he told her, "I'm proud of you for being able to forgive David. It takes a very special person to be able to do that."

Alex shrugged as if it really hadn't been a big deal to her. "Thank you for not beating him up." When he gave her a look, she laughed. "What? I know you hate him for hurting me."

"I –" He nodded and tried again. "What he did to you is unforgivable. The same goes for everyone who has ever hurt you."

"I know, Dad." Still holding onto his hand, she sat down next to him. "I don't expect you to forgive him." She shrugged. "It was just something I needed to do. I don't like how I feel when I hate someone."

He hugged her, resting his chin on the top of her head. "And that is why you are the best person I know." She gave into that laugh that told him she thought he was a biased, crazy father.

"It really meant a lot that you let me say bye to mom the way I did," Alex said, pulling out of the hug. "Thanks."

He returned her smile. "You're welcome, Sweetheart. Now what do you think about getting changed into our nice clothes and heading to the," at this point he attempted to sound French, "Opera National de Paris?"

"L'opéra?" Alex asked, pleased that he had at least sounded a little bit French. "Pour ce qui?"

"Um…" Steve answered, not sure what her second question meant. "Oui." He shook his head, reverting back to English. "I bought us tickets to 'La Fille –"

Alex's eyes grew wide as a smile lit up her face. "La Fille Mal Gardée." Her dad's nod confirmed it and her excitement grew. "That's one of the oldest ballets still performed regularly! The original premiered, like, two weeks before the fall of the Bastille in 1789! You really got us tickets to see it? I've always –"

"—wanted to see it," Steve finished for her. He gave into a smug smile. He had a feeling he would be bored – the only ballet he had ever been interested in watching was when Alex was performing – at the show but he knew, thanks to the notebook of hers that he had looked through while she had been missing, that it was something she had always wanted to see. Purchasing the tickets had not been exactly cheap but he wanted to be the one to share in that experience with her. He wanted to create positive memories for her, especially because he only had another three years left before she headed off to college and less time than that before she started not wanting to spend time with him. "I know." He nodded towards the bathroom. "Go get cleaned up and dressed."

She threw her arms around him. "Thanks! You really _are_ the best Dad ever!"

* * *

They slept late on the morning of their sixth day in Paris and, by mid-morning, they were visiting St. Pierre de Montmarte and Sacre Coeur, two Roman Catholic churches situated at the top of the Montmarte Hill. Although lesser known than Sacre Coeur, the Church of Saint Peter has a greater historical claim to fame, having been built at the location where the original vows were taken that led to the founding of the Society of Jesus. It had been destroyed during the French Revolution and rebuilt during the 19th century; columns of Roman origin could still be spotted in the Nave. Overshadowing St. Pierre from the north side was Sacre Coeur, a highly popular tourist destination, whose foundation stone was laid in 1875. With a triple-arched portico surmounted by two bronze equestrian statues of King Saint Louis IX and Joan of Arc, both of whom are France's national saints, the Basilica loomed over the rest of the city. On the interior, golden mosaics glowed and the apse mosaic, the largest in the world, depicted _The Sacred Heart worshiped by the Virgin Mary, Joan of Arc and St. Michael the Archangel_ and _Christ in Majesty__. _A climb to the top of the dome, which was supported by 80 columns, provided them an excellent chance to snap photos of Paris from 271 feet above Montmarte, the second-highest viewpoint after the Eiffel Tower. The crypt contained numerous statues of Catholic Saints as well as a relic believed by many to be the actual Sacred Heart of Christ.

After grabbing a late lunch at a nearby café, Alex had asked if they could visit another touristy cemetery, the Cimetiere Montmarte, where another of her favorite French authors, Alexandre Dumas, was buried. Where most people would find cemeteries creepy, Alex had been fascinated by the vast variety of tombstones. One of her favorites had been the tombstone of Russian ballet dancer Vaslav Nijinsky who had died in 1950 and was portrayed as the puppet Petrouchka in a statue on top of his grave. Other notable gravesites they had visited were those of artist Edgar Degas, physicist Jean Foucault, social theorist Charles Francois Fourier, German poet Heinrich Heine, and military theorist General Antoine Henri Jomini. Leaving the cemetery, they both had admitted to being exhausted – they had not gotten back to their hotel room until midnight after the ballet performance – so they had hopped on the metro and headed back to their room where they watched TV and ordered room service before heading to bed early.

They marked their seventh day in the city by finally visiting the Arc de Triomphe, making their way there along the Champs Elysee, stopping in many of the stores as they did. After that they got onto the metro, headed for Canal St. Martin, where they took a leisurely boat ride along the Seine. Their eighth day of sightseeing started at the Grand Palais and took them, on foot, over the Pont Alexandre III Bridge to Les Invalides, home of the French Army Museum and Napoleon's Tomb. Steve had particularly enjoyed the weapons exhibit at the museum; he spent hours looking at the collection which spanned from antiquity to the 20th century. He also had been excited to see a French 75 mm field gun dating from 1897 and a Renault FT17 that had been used in World War I. They finished there in mid-afternoon and decided to head back to the hotel for a swim in the hotel pool.

That was where Alex found herself – she was one of only three people in the water – around four o'clock that afternoon. Concerned about her dad who had climbed out of the pool ten minutes ago after hearing his phone ring incessantly, she exited the pool via the side ladder and, dripping water all over the floor, headed over to the bench where her towel had been placed. Wrapping it around her, she padded barefoot out of the pool area and headed for the door in which her dad had headed out of. She spotted him sitting on a bench, partially obscured by a large potted bush, and he appeared to be in an animated conversation with whoever had called him. She started walking towards him, stopping in place only a few feet behind him when she heard him speaking Japanese. Knowing she wasn't supposed to eavesdrop did not stop her from doing just that.

Her Japanese was still on a level just above introductory so she had only picked up on maybe a quarter of the conversation. Yet, she couldn't be positive that she understood any of what she had heard. Once she saw her dad disconnect the call and slump forward conflictingly, Alex moved towards him, approaching from behind, and sat down next to him. She looked at him for several long moments, sensing that she had, in fact, understood correctly. "That was about Wo Fat, wasn't it?"

It took him awhile to respond but, when he did, the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. "They found him?"

Steve expelled a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding. "Yeah," he said, his words accompanied by a nod. "Police in Tokyo have confirmed that he's there." Months ago, when Wo Fat had disappeared from Hawaii, Steve had requested assistance from some old friends of his from across the world. He had asked them to keep their eyes and ears open to any intelligence regarding Wo Fat and his known associates. One of those old friends of his included a man who now worked in Tokyo with the Japanese equivalent of a SWAT team.

Alex didn't say anything for several minutes; she just watched her Dad and all of the emotions in his eyes. Wrapping the towel tighter around her shoulders, she said, "You should go."

Steve's head jerked roughly as he looked at his daughter. "Go? What?"

Alex nodded. "To Japan." She stretched her legs out straight, her heels resting on the cobblestoned pathway. She looked at her Dad; in that moment, she understood exactly what needed to be done and she knew that her Dad was the only one who could do it.

"Alex, I…" he shook his head in an attempt to clear it of all the emotions and memories coursing through his mind. "I can't –"

"Yes, you can," Alex interrupted, placing her hand on top of his. "He needs to go to jail for everything that he has done and you're the one that needs to arrest him." She squeezed his hand. "I get it, Dad."

"You get it?"

Alex nodded. "We came here to heal and, for the most part, we have. But I also know deep down that we will never fully heal until Wo Fat is brought to justice." She used the corner of the towel to wipe her face free of the water that dripped down it from her wet hair. "You have raised me to be responsible for, and how to take care of, the people that I love. Maybe there was a time when I thought that the only way to take care of loved ones was to take responsibility for them by being there physically." She gave him a small smile. "But now I understand that sometimes the only way you can do both – be responsible for _and_ take care of them – is to disappear for a little while. It's what you did for a significant part of my life and I wouldn't change a thing about that. You gotta do this, Dad. You need to go arrest Wo Fat – you're the only one who can – and not just for our family."

* * *

"Kono! Uncle Danny! Chin!" Alex loudly greeted, stepping into the warm, Honolulu sunshine. Pulling her luggage behind her, she picked up her pace, meeting them at the curb where the Camaro and her Dad's truck were parked. She practically threw herself at all three of them; the end result was a group hug. A bark from inside the Camaro caused Alex to step free of the hug. "Anchor!" Laughing, she opened the car door and was immediately attacked by the over-excited dog with his tongue hanging loosely out of his mouth. Squatting down, she was pushed backwards onto the pavement as the dog kissed her face. When the dog finally calmed down from his excitement, Alex instructed him to sit and stay and then climbed back to her feet.

"Um, Alex?" Danny said, sharing a glance with the two cousins. "Did you leave your crazy, Super Seal of a father at baggage claim to carry the rest of your luggage?"

Alex gave him a weird look. "This is the only luggage I have," she said, gesturing to the rollaway suitcase and her backpack. "Besides, Dad's not with me."

"Not with you?" Kono asked, confusion plastered on her face.

"I thought he said you were both flying back here," Chin commented.

"We did," Alex replied, not quite understanding why they were confused. Hadn't her Dad told them that they would only be picking her up? "But he has another flight to catch."

"Another flight?" Danny asked, waving his hands in the air in a sign that he was both frustrated and confused. "What do you mean _another_ flight?"

Alex gave him a weird look again. "He didn't tell you?" By the expression on their faces, apparently he had not. "He's flying to Japan to arrest Wo Fat."

* * *

**A/N: Mahalo, Gracias, Danke, Grazie, Merci... for reading AND reviewing! :D**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long for me to post this chapter. It was difficult to write to begin with then add to that several multiple emotional events that have happened this week, both personally and in a state (the exact county) that I used to live in. My heart weeps for the families affected by the mass shooting in Connecticut. I hope everyone who reads this takes some time every day with the people that they love because nothing in life is more important than family and friends.**

**With that said, I want to say thank you to everyone who has spent their time and energy reading this story. Only a handful of you have ever left a review or pm letting me know what you think of the story but, even if you haven't reviewed, thank you. This is not a short story by any means and I know how long it takes to read a story of this size. I appreciate each and every one of you.**

**Specifically, thank you to those who left a review on the last chapter:**

**BitmeDamon33 – Thank you very much for reading! Hope you continue to enjoy the story.**

**Narwhayley – Yes, Steve is very much human and, even if the show has not always shown it, he does struggle with issues just like the rest of us. Alex is not a perfect child by any means but she is very understanding about tough situations, such as the one with her dad and Wo Fat. I think by having her "allow" her dad to go to Japan to arrest Wo Fat shows just how much she has grown up; it was a very adult decision. And, yes, Alexandra was named that way in honor of AOL who plays Steve.**

**Craftygirl11- Thank you. Closure was an essential piece of the story for both of them. Without that, neither of them could ever fully heal. And, yes, I will bring Doris back. I try to stick to canon as much as I can and that includes everything that happened in the season 2 finale and everything that has occurred in season 3. There are only a few more chapters left in MFS2 but I have a ton of ideas written for MFS3, most of which are based off of canonical plots.**

**FicreaderT – No. He left the note for Danny before he took Alex on vacation. Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing!**

**Francis2 – You are very welcome! It was much needed, wasn't it? It was cut short but Steve needs to go to Tokyo to arrest Wo Fat. I think the length of their vacation was long enough… it provided the opportunity for bonding and healing that they both very much needed. Thank you again!**

**AnonGuest – Really? I made your day? Wow! Thank you for all of your comments. I have been to Paris but it's been many years since I was there; I was afraid it wasn't written well enough but I'm glad you thought it was "beautifully descriptive"! Alex and Steve's relationship has certainly evolved and it will continue to as time goes on. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Pinkphoenix1985 – You probably know more about where this story is headed than anyone else… that happens easily when you share my brain most of the time, LOL. Anyways, as you know, the only way the whole Steve going to Japan after Wo Fat thing would work in my story was if Alex gave him permission to do so. I just don't see my version of Daddy Steve going without her permission. Haha, and yes, as you will see, Danny is not exactly pleased with Steve. Thanks!**

**Maggiemcgarrett – Thank you! I'm curious – what's your favorite part of this story?**

**loveRnB- haha, you are so right about Danny. Sorry for the delay in posting this. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Sunny irish – Thanks! I loved the history part, too. (I'm a history lover). Thanks, I think it was a very adult decision for Alex to give Steve permission to go get Wo Fat. LOL, don't get sucked in _too_ much. Thanks!**

**Tessab – Thanks! I was hoping Steve's inner conflict was believable. I think I succeeded in making that happen. Hope you continue to enjoy the story!**

**JM Reagan – Thanks!**

**As for this chapter… it's sort of dialogue-heavy with a good chunk being Josh/Alex centric while another big chunk is Steve/Alex centric. Hope it doesn't disappoint!**

* * *

"Japan?!" Danny exclaimed, annoyance flooding his tone. "Wo Fat?! What –"

His rant was halted when his cell phone rang, much to the relief of Kono, Chin and Alex. As Danny started to pull the phone out of his pocket, Chin picked up Alex's luggage and loaded them into the back seat of Steve's truck. When Steve had called Danny yesterday, only talking long enough to provide Danny with the time his and Alex's flight would arrive in Honolulu, he had decided to bring Steve's truck with him so that Steve would not have to rely on one of them to take him and Alex home. Of course, had he known that Steve wouldn't be with Alex, it would have saved them all the drive over to the McGarrett house to pick up the truck. Oh well. No harm, no foul. Hearing Danny's rant start as soon as he answered the phone, Chin and Alex looked at each other and then both rolled their eyes.

"Japan, Steven?" Danny asked, the loudness of his voice causing passersby to look at him. "You leave me a letter and then disappear for two weeks! Then you call me to say you're coming back and need a pickup at the airport! So Chin, Kono, and I come here and then you know what?! You don't even show up! And you know why? Because, according to your daughter, you are traipsing off to Japan in search of Wo Fat. What is wrong with you, huh?"

"I told him to go."

Danny stopped mid-rant, holding the phone away from his ear, to just stare at the teenager. "You – you what?"

Steve's voice could be heard coming through Danny's phone. "See, Daniel, coulda saved yourself a rant if you had only let me speak."

"You told him to go?" Danny asked, ignoring Steve's comment.

"Yes."

"Yes, Danny, that's what she said," Steve said, echoing his daughter's response. "Now could you please put my daughter on the phone?"

"You McGarrett's…" Danny said, trailing off into a mumble that couldn't be heard. He handed Alex the phone.

"I think Uncle Danny misses you," Alex said when she was handed the phone. She smiled sweetly at Danny when he softly glared at her. "You know, Dad, you just hugged me bye like ten minutes ago. Didn't think you'd miss me already."

"I miss you every second I'm away from you, Sweetheart."

"Yeah," Alex said, glancing at the three adults standing nearby. She leaned back against the side of the truck. "Dad, I –"

"I forgot to tell you that you can have your phone back," Steve interrupted. He hadn't told her earlier when he had hugged her goodbye because he had to rush to his connecting flight. Yet now that his eight hour flight was delayed, it also gave him the opportunity to have one last important conversation with her before boarding the plane. He didn't want to scare her but he was very much aware of how dangerous the next few days could be for him.

"Really?" An excited smile graced her face. "Can I see Josh again, too?"

Steve sighed. "Josh?"

"Please, Dad," Alex pleaded. "He's one of my best friends and I've missed being able to spend time with him."

Why did he have the strangest feeling that Josh would end up being his daughter's first boyfriend? She spent more time talking about the boy than she did with any of her other friends and she expressed missing him more than she ever had with her other friends. Resolved to the fact that his daughter wasn't a little girl anymore, he offered, "Tell you what: I'll call his Dad and see what he thinks. I know you're doing better now but we have to make sure that Josh is, too. Okay?"

"Okay," Alex replied. "Thanks again for a great vacation. I'm glad we were able to spend that time together, just the two of us."

"Me too," Steve told her. "I love you, Alex." He cleared his throat. "You're an incredible kid and I just want you to know how much it means to me that you are allowing me to do this. Thank you."

She didn't know why he was thanking her. He was the adult and if he really had wanted to go he would have regardless of whether she had told him to or not. "Just be safe, okay?" She shifted her weight to the other foot. "You know, wear a bullet proof vest and make sure you have backup."

"I will," he promised. "Listen, Sweetheart, I'll be home in a few days hopefully, okay? Now give the phone back to Danny and make sure you thank him, Chin and Kono for picking you up. And if you need me for anything, at any time, just call, okay? And good luck tomorrow."

"'Kay and thanks," Alex answered. "Love you."

* * *

"Hey!"

"Hey," Alex said, surprised at seeing the person who was standing outside the front of the school.

"Wow," Josh said with a grin on his face. "You're so…" he trailed off, his eyes gazing into hers. Wherever her dad had taken her on vacation had certainly agreed with her; she had put back on the weight that she had loss and her eyes sparkled with a level of happiness that he hadn't seen in her in awhile. He cleared his throat. "You look great." _Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous._ But he couldn't exactly say those words out loud. Well, he probably could but…

She smiled. "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself." He didn't look angry and depressed like the last time she saw him; he looked like the Josh she had first met at summer camp. Those cute French boys and Navy Midshipmen that she had seen on her vacation had absolutely nothing on Josh. He was still the cutest boy she had ever seen and she felt so lucky to have him as her friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Your Dad called my Dad yesterday and said he was okay with us hanging out again if my Dad was cool with it," Josh answered, falling into step with her at the bottom of the stairs as they made their way over to the bike rack. "This morning my Dad mentioned you had your makeup exams today and I wanted to wish you good luck." Not that she ever needed luck when it came to school exams. She was smart and studious and rarely struggled with any subject. "I must have just missed you because when I got here I saw your bike but you were already inside."

Alex glanced at her watch. "You've been here for four hours?"

Josh smiled sheepishly. He shrugged. "I've missed you."

Reaching the bike rack, Alex hugged him and kissed his cheek. "I've missed you, too."

Josh grinned again as a slight blush appeared on his cheeks. "So I know you probably have to check with Danny first but do you wanna go grab lunch and a smoothie?"

* * *

"You really didn't have to pay for my food, you know," Alex said, sliding into the side of the booth opposite Josh. After ordering her food, she had pulled out a wad of cash to pay the cashier but Josh had insisted on adding her tab to his. She had protested – they had bickered about it – until finally relenting if for no other reason than to stop them from continuing to hold up the line.

Josh smirked at her. "I wanted to." He shrugged. "Besides, I probably still owe you from last summer when we played mini-golf or something."

"Josh."

"Alex." He opened his straw and stuck it through the opening on his smoothie cup lid.

"Alright, alright," Alex said, understanding the finality of his tone. "I'll drop it." She took a sip of her strawberry banana smoothie. "Thank you."

He smiled. "Welcome." He stuck a French fry in his mouth. "So… vacation."

"Right," Alex said, returning his smile. "We were in Annapolis for a day and then when we went to Paris."

"He took you to Paris? Wow!"

Alex nodded, her smile growing larger as she did. "It was awesome. We did all the important tourist stuff – you know, the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur – and we found some pretty cool museums to visit." As they ate she continued to ramble, telling him about all of the fun and exciting things they had discovered in the City of Light. He, likewise, had told her all about the time his dad had taken him and Sam there for a couple of days while stationed in Italy. Before they knew it, their meal was consumed and they were both sucking nothing but air through their straws.

"I'm gonna get another one," Josh announced, standing up. "Want one?" She reached for the front pocket of her jeans. Knowing that she was searching for cash, he said, "It's on me today, remember?" With a final pleased grin, he headed past her towards the front of the shop.

He rejoined her five minutes later, setting another smoothie down in front of her as he slid into his side of the booth. "So, um, Becky Morrison just asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance."

"A junior," Alex commented, intentionally ignoring his gaze. "Nice."

A confused look quickly appeared on his face before just as quickly disappearing. "I turned her down."

"Oh." Alex smiled inwardly. She couldn't let Josh see just how happy his statement had made her. With a faint blush on her face, she allowed her eyes to drift upward. When they met his, she asked, "Why'd you do that?"

Josh didn't answer right away. Finally, he decided to just be honest and bold. It wasn't like she didn't already know the answer to her question; it wasn't like either of them was not aware of their mutual interest in being more than just friends. Just like he was pretty certain that nearly everyone they knew expected the two of them to start dating as soon as Alex turned sixteen. "She's not you."

Both grinning, they gazed at each other across the table. To Alex, it soon felt like they were the only two people in the restaurant. When she started to feel her heartbeat get rapidly faster, Alex cleared her throat and forced herself to look past him for several seconds. Looking back at him, she observed, "You're doing better. You seem happier."

Josh nodded, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. "Yeah, I am." He shrugged. "This whole thing with my Mom, it really bothered me, you know? It brought back so many emotions that I thought I had dealt with years ago." He sighed. "I guess I never thought I would go back to hurting myself but I did." His eyes drifted downward briefly before shame flooded his feature. "That was a pretty tough reality to face – that she still has such a negative affect over me."

"I don't know if you ever fully heal from that kind of stuff," Alex told him, her fingers lightly tapping the side of the Styrofoam cup. "The important thing is that you learn how to handle it in an effective manner."

Josh nodded. "I am relearning how to do that."

"Good," Alex said, giving into a smile. "The therapist is helping then?"

Josh shrugged. "A little, I guess, but he's not the reason I'm looking at things differently now." He relaxed back into the booth. "Sam is."

"Sam?"

Josh nodded. "He came into my room one night and wanted to know what really happened to my hands. He asked me to be honest with him."

"So you told him."

Josh nodded again. "I didn't tell him specifics about it but I did tell him that I had been thinking about our mom and that, as a result, I got angry. I told him about the hole in my wall and how I punched through the glass of my bedroom window."

"Did that scare him?"

Josh shrugged. "If it did, he didn't show it." He gave into a small smile, calling to mind that endearing moment between him and his little brother. "He actually just looked me in the eye and told me that he was my brother and he loved me and that he hurts every time I hurt. Then he made me promise to learn another way of dealing with my anger."

"I knew I liked your brother for a reason," Alex commented, breaking into a smile. She reached over and placed a hand on top of his. "And just so you know… Sam isn't the only who hurts when you hurt."

He gave her a grateful smile. "I know. That conversation with Sam made me realize some things. It gave me a new lease on life, if you will. It made me realize that I've been selfish. Hurting myself only causes me physical pain yet it causes my family and friends emotional pain and that's worse. It's not fair of me to put my dad and Sam through that. It's not fair to put anyone who cares about me through that."

"That's a good revelation, Josh," Alex told him. "I'm glad you came to that realization." She gave him a smile. "Have you figured out a better way to deal with your anger?"

Josh nodded. "Dad bought me a boxing bag."

"That helps?"

Josh nodded again. "If talking to my Dad or my therapist doesn't help, I go beat the crap out of the bag until I feel better." Giving into a laugh, he added, "Plus it serves as a pretty good workout."

* * *

Three hours later, Danny and Jason stood outside of the small restaurant, looking through the glass at the two teenagers inside who were engaged in what appeared to be an animated and lively conversation. Alex was supposed to have met Danny at headquarters an hour ago while Josh should have met his father at the house where Sam would be spending the night with a friend. Neither teen had answered their phone resulting in the two men contacting each other. Discovering that neither of them had heard from the teens, the two men had decided to head to the restaurant that the kids said they would be having lunch at. Sure enough, that was where they found the teenagers.

He and Jason had been standing there for a good five minutes just watching the two teenagers who were oblivious to anything occurring outside of their conversation. Danny knew that if Steve were witnessing this scene he would probably be quite close to having a full-blown heart attack due to the laughter and subtle, loving touches taking place between the two teens. They had even watched as two older girls had stopped by the table, both attempting to speak to Josh, who simply brushed them off with what had appeared to be a mere hello before returning his attention to Alex. There was absolutely no denying where Josh and Alex's relationship was headed. It was a good thing Steve wasn't there, not just because it prevented Steve from needing to be rushed to the hospital, but because of the comment that came out of Danny's mouth. "I predict that eight years from now we will be watching those two take their wedding vows."

Jason gave into a sigh. He'd been watching the progression of his son's relationship with Alex and it was all too obvious to him that Josh had more than just a friend interest in the girl. As it was, Josh talked more frequently about Alex than he did with any of his other friends. At this point he even talked more about her than he did baseball, football, or his interest in all things Army; Josh was slowly starting to become girl crazy…about one girl. Jason liked Alex – she was a good kid from a good family – but if his son wanted to achieve his dream of being accepted to West Point he needed to keep his focus on academics, athletics and community service, _not_ on the girl who had captured his attention that first day of summer camp nearly a year ago. Pushing open the door of the restaurant, he said, "Don't let Steve hear you say that."

* * *

"How'd your exams go?"

"Pretty good," Alex responded, crawling under the covers of her bed. "I'll get my grades back on Monday."

"That's great, Sweetheart," Steve told her, hearing the tiredness in her voice. He wouldn't keep her on the phone for too long. "How was your day?"

"It was great!" She rolled on her side, keeping the phone between her ear and the pillow. "Have you arrested him yet?"

"No, not yet," he told her. The raid, if all went according to plan, was scheduled to take place tomorrow night. The Tokyo police had been monitoring Wo Fat's travels throughout the city and, for the last week, he had been tracked back to the same hotel room. Pending any unexpected change of routine on Wo Fat's part, Steve should have him in custody in twenty-four hours and be back on the island in less than forty-eight. "What made your day so great?"

"Oh, Josh and I hung out for awhile," Alex said as if her comment would not cause her dad any worry. "So, when do you think you'll be home?"

"Josh and you," Steve started, focusing only on her first comment. Something in her tone put him on alert. "You hung out? Doing what? For how long? Where? Just the two of you?"

"Daaaaad," Alex said, drawing out the word longer than was necessary.

"Alexandra."

Alex sighed, muttering, "Why do you have to be so paranoid?" A loud sigh from her Dad gave her no choice but to answer his earlier questions. "All we did was grab lunch and then we got busy talking until Uncle Danny and Mr. Sullivan showed up. That's it."

"You sure that's it?" Steve asked. It had been months since he had believed that all she and Josh ever did together was talk. "There wasn't any, I don't know, inappropriate touching or kissing or –"

"You know, I think you worry more about inappropriate touching and kissing than is healthy," Alex interrupted. "You should see a therapist about that."

"Alexan—"

"You're the one who I said I could spend time with him again," Alex reminded him. "So, when do you think you'll be home?"

He made a mental note to re-evaluate the amount of time he would allow her to be alone with Josh. Reminding himself to discuss it with her at a later time, he answered, "In a couple of days hopefully."

"Good," Alex replied. She gave into a yawn. "When you get back can we make sure we have a father-daughter date soon? 'Cuz there's some stuff I want to talk to you about."

"Of course we can do that," he told her. "Everything okay? I have time now to talk if you want."

"Everything's good, Dad," she assured him. There were three things specifically that she wanted to talk with him about. "I just want to talk to you in person and get your opinion and guidance on something."

"How about Friday night?" Steve proposed. "I should be home by then. I'll pick you up from school and we can go to dinner wherever you want."

"Sounds great!" Alex exclaimed, her voice full of enthusiasm. "I should probably try to go to sleep. I'm going to the zoo with Grace and Uncle Danny tomorrow."

"Alright, Sweetheart. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

* * *

Reading the text that just came in on his phone, Jason stood up from the couch and headed down the hall where the sound of music drifted from. Stopping outside the door to the room, he smiled at the sound of laughter emanating from his youngest son; music from the guitar and piano only added to the happy moment. It was such a change from earlier that day when he had first picked up Alex and Josh from school. He had been on his lunch break when he had received a slightly panicked phone call from Danny. Danny had mentioned something about Steve being on a plane that had possibly crashed and had asked him if he wouldn't mind picking Alex up from school that afternoon since the Five-0 taskforce was working on locating Steve. Of course, he had not hesitated to say yes. When he had shown up at the school a couple of hours later, the look in Alex's eyes when they had met his expressed that she already knew something was wrong. He hadn't – he couldn't – give her any specific details. All he could do was assure her that Chin, Kono, and Danny were helping to bring her Dad back to Hawaii.

He had brought them back to the house and, while all three kids worked on their homework at the dining room table, he had set to work making dinner. During dinner, Alex had been extremely quiet and had barely responded when talked to. Afterwards, the boys had cleared the table and then, after Sam recruited Alex to help, all three kids had washed the dishes. He had kept an ear to the kitchen, noting that Alex had not joined the boys in their joke telling or laughing and it had concerned him. He had pulled her aside after they had finished, asking her if she needed or wanted to talk, and, instead of saying anything, had simply thrown her arms around his midsection. He had hugged her back, letting her take comfort from him for as long as she needed to, and, when she had released him, Josh had suggested they go play music, he on the guitar and her on the piano. It hadn't taken long before the sound of laughter accompanied the music that had not been played in his house for several years.

He stepped into the room, knocking on the open door with his knuckles as he did. He held up his cell phone as all three kids looked at him. "Danny called. Let's go see your Dad." The relief he felt when she broke into a smile only magnified when, half an hour later, he watched her run into her dad's arms in the middle of the Five-0 Headquarters.

* * *

"So," Steve said, setting the backpack down on the ground. "I'm a little surprised that you chose to do this instead of going for shrimp on the North Shore." When he had picked her up from school two hours ago, he had asked her where she wanted to go for their dinner date. He had been surprised when she had asked if they could head home, make a picnic lunch and hike up to the petroglyphs, especially since he had given her free range on the choice of restaurant for the evening.

Alex shrugged, taking a sip out of her water bottle. "I like it up here and it's easier to talk here since there's no one else around."

"Alright," Steve said, pulling a blanket out of the backpack. "Help me lay this out and then we'll sit down to eat and talk." A few minutes later, food was spread out on the blanket and they sat down facing each other. Taking a bite of his sandwich, he said, "What's up?"

"There's three things I want to tell you," she answered, popping a grape into her mouth. "But I don't know which one to tell you first."

"I don't know, Sweetheart," he replied. "That's up to you."

"Yeah," Alex said, taking a bite of her sandwich and chewing as she thought about how to begin. "Did Mom's lawyer ever get a hold of you?"

"Mom's lawyer?" Steve asked, confused by her question. "No. Why?"

"He left a couple of messages on the answering machine while we were gone," Alex explained. "And I talked to him once but he wouldn't tell me what it was about so I gave him your cell number."

That was strange. Why would Cindy's lawyer be trying to get a hold of him? As he tried to determine a reason for him trying to contact him, he continued to eat. Finally, after several minutes, his daughter's truthful admission answered his question for him. "An envelope came in the mail from him. It had your name on it but it also had mine on it so I opened it." Reaching over, she unzipped the small pouch of her backpack and pulled out the envelope she had just mentioned. She handed it to her dad who, upon opening it and reading the first few sentences, looked at her with surprise in his eyes. Alex nodded. "Why do you think David didn't tell me that Mom left me all of her money?"

Steve didn't have an answer for that. He looked back down at the piece of paper in his hands; his eyes scanned the typed words. Cindy had left everything to Alex; his daughter had just inherited a fortune of astronomical proportions. Cindy had put ninety percent of her life's worth into a trust fund for Alex; the remaining ten percent had been put into an account that Steve could access when needed to help care for their daughter. "What did you just say?" He wasn't sure he had heard his daughter correctly.

"I said I'm not sure I want it."

"What do you mean?" He asked her, folding the letter and putting it back inside the envelope. "This will cover the remaining cost of your college tuition." The account that he had set up for her years ago had enough money in it to pay for nearly two years of tuition, if she went to a state school, that is. "You can go to a private college and, heck, you wouldn't even have to work to support yourself during a master's degree or doctorate if you decide you want to go for those." Hell, this also meant that he now had less to worry about when it came to paying the tuition at her private school for the next three years, or for the costs of her future – the very distant future and only if there was ever a guy worthy of marrying her – wedding or for anything; she was set for life.

"Then take out enough to cover the cost of my education," she replied, very confident that she didn't want or need even one-tenth of the money she had been left. "I want to give the rest away to charity."

"Okay," he said, understanding the seriousness in her tone. "Since you've had a little bit more time than me to process this, how about you give me a few days and then we'll sit down and discuss this again. Okay?"

Alex nodded. "Okay, but just so you know, I don't think I will change my mind."

"Yeah," he said, folding the envelope in half and putting it in his cargo pocket. "What else is on your mind?"

"I'm sorry for testing you."

"Testing me?" He listened intently as his daughter explained the reason behind a big portion of her rule breaking and misbehavior. She talked for several long minutes about how it took a lot of self-reflection and talking to Mary and Catherine for her to realize that she had been testing him to determine her limits. She admitted to trying to figure out what it would take for him to stop loving her the way her mom had and, much to his relief, she admitted that she learned that he would never stop loving her.

She told him how her mother's death had changed her, having served as a wake-up call about how hurtful her disrespect towards him had been. Disobeying him, going against his punishments for her, had been disrespectful, rude, and hurtful and now, after her mom's death, she had vowed to not act like that anymore. He had told her that every teenager broke the rules sometimes; it was just a part of growing up. She had politely argued with him, finally telling him that there was another reason she wasn't going to misbehave anymore. That was when she gave him the news that would make any Naval Academy graduate extremely proud.

"I want to be accepted to the Naval Academy and I want your help in making sure I'm one of the best candidates when I apply."

* * *

**As always, please read and review. And, if you're brand new to this story, please stop "in" and say hello! Mahalo!**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: Okay, this is the final (long) chapter of MFS2. I hope the last part of this doesn't seem too rushed but it was important for me to post this before Christmas. I really hope this gives everyone an idea of what is to come in part 3... Please add me to your author alerts as I will be continuing this story in MFS, part 3 which will begin with episode 3.01. I hope to have the first chapter posted in about a week and a half.**

**A tremendous thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and added me to your favorites or alerts lists. Your kind words and dedication to this story is overwhelming. Part 2 of my story has received nearly 3 times the amount of reviews that part 1 did… unbelievable! After reading this chapter, please leave me a note letting me know what you liked most about this part of the story and what, if anything, you hope is included in part 3. You all are amazing and I hope you have a wonderful holiday season!**

* * *

"The Naval Academy?" Steve repeated, a proud smile appearing on his face. "Really? You really want to attend the Naval Academy?"

Alex nodded. "I do." She shrugged. "I know I'm still just a freshman but, ever since we visited Annapolis, I just have this confident feeling deep-down that it's the only place I will ever want to attend." She gave him a nervous look. "Are you, um, okay with that?"

"Am I okay with it?" he asked, scooting forward and wrapping his arms around her. "Of course I'm okay with it." He dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "I am more than okay with it. Do you have any idea how excited this makes me? How proud I am of you?"

"Really?" Alex said, pulling away from him. "So you don't mind that I want to follow in your footsteps and join the Navy?"

"I think it's amazing that you want to join the Navy," he assured her. "I couldn't be happier."

"Cool," she replied, breaking into a smile. She reached over and pulled out a folded piece of paper from her backpack. She unfolded it and moved over so she was sitting next to him. "I looked at the Academy's website and, based on what I found there, I sort of went ahead and wrote down a list of classes I need to make sure I take the next three years." She handed the paper to him. "I also wrote down what the Academy recommends I do in order to be a qualified applicant." She looked at him, giving into a sheepish grin. "Of course, you and Lieutenant Commander Murray probably know all of that already."

Steve scanned the list, taking in the course of required classes – 2 years of a foreign language, four years of math, four years of English, one year each of Chemistry and Physics, one year of US History, one year of World or European History – and he was pleased to see that, on Alex's list of proposed classes to take, the majority of those were honors versions. He also saw that she had planned on taking the PSAT in the fall, with plans to take both the SAT and ACT both at the end of her sophomore year and the very beginning of her junior year. She also planned on applying for the Academy's Summer Seminar, a six day fast paced class for high achievers which, if accepted, she would attend the summer after her junior year. She had even made a chart that detailed the maximum performance scores for the required Candidate Fitness Assessment that she would need to complete during the application process. It was obvious that his daughter had clearly thought through her decision and, thanks to the written plan, it was clear that she was ready to begin the hard and busy work it would take to make her a well-qualified applicant. "Have you talked to Lieutenant Commander Murray about your goal?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. I wanted to talk to you about it first." She popped a grape into her mouth. "Two weeks from now is when we sit down with our guidance counselors to plan our schedules for next year. Can we plan a meeting with Lieutenant Commander Murray before then? I would like both of you to help me become the best applicant possible. You know, academically, physically, everything." She shrugged. "Maybe I'm an overachiever but I want to exceed the max performance scores for the fitness assessment."

Steve laughed. She was so much like him it was scary. "Well, I think you have the six-minute mile and the fifty pushups well surpassed."

"Yeah," Alex agreed. "But 95 crunches in two minutes?"

"You have plenty of time to master the rest of the events," Steve reminded her. "And yes, let's schedule a time to meet with him and I will be more than happy to help you with anything you need."

"Cool." She returned to their meal, her thoughts now focused on the upcoming meeting with her guidance counselor, her birthday party scheduled for just over a week from now, and the AP French and Italian exams she was slotted to take on Monday afternoon.

As Alex resumed eating, Steve focused his attention back on the piece of paper in his hands. Everything on it was so detailed – the list of classes she needed and wanted to take were scheduled down to the specific semester in which she wanted to take them – in a manner that was so typical for Alex. She had even gone ahead and researched when ACT/SAT prep courses were being offered as well as contact information for the Hawaii State Representative and Senators, who she would need to contact for reference letters as part of her application packet. He turned the piece of paper over, noticing what he hadn't the first time he had looked at the paper. "You made a list of possible majors?" Not only had she done that, she had also made a list of personal goals to achieve by the time she graduated high school, one of which was to be eligible to take and pass the AP Japanese exam while another was to run in the Honolulu marathon with him.

She smiled sheepishly. "History is still my first choice and I'm thinking a minor in Arabic, Chinese, or Russian with a career goal of either cryptology or intelligence _or _maybe I can be a Linguist, since I'll be at least quadrilingual by then." She was determined to be nearly fluent in Japanese by the time she graduated high school, making that the fourth language she could speak.

"Did Catherine have any influence on that?"

Alex shook her head. "I've asked her about her job but I haven't told her that I want to go to the Academy or anything about my career goals. Like I said, you were the first one I wanted to talk to about it."

"Well, I appreciate that, Sweetheart," he said, giving her a smile. "And I think you're already off to a great start. There's no doubt in my mind that you will achieve your goal."

* * *

"Hey, are you okay?" Catherine asked, sneaking up behind Steve and wrapping her arms around his waist. It was the middle of Alex's birthday party and, while she had been in the middle of a conversation with Kono, she had noticed Steve disappearing into the house alone. When he didn't come out after ten minutes, she had excused herself and headed inside. She found him in the kitchen, his palms resting on the edge of the sink and he was staring out of the kitchen window looking into the backyard. He loudly expelled a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. "What's wrong?"

Steve sighed. "Nothing."

Catherine dropped a kiss to his shoulder blade, breathing in the fresh scent of his laundry detergent. "C'mon, babe, this is me you're talking to. I know something's bothering you."

Steve sighed again. "It's gone by too fast."

"She couldn't stay little forever," Catherine said, moving her hands to his back to massage the tense muscles found there.

"Yeah," Steve muttered. "But how can she be nearly fifteen already?" His body began to relax under the feel of Catherine's hands. "It seems like it was only yesterday when she was born." His comment hung in the air, not receiving a response, as the tension left his body.

He tensed up under her hands again several minutes later and she looked out the window to see the cause of his stress. She couldn't help but give into the urge to smile. "You know, she wasn't going to think boys have cooties forever."

He grunted. He tore his eyes away from the backyard and, releasing the tense, death grip he had on the counter, turned around, wrapping his arms around Catherine. "I wish I could rewind to a time when she _did_ think boys were gross. It'd be a hell of a lot better than having to see that," he added with a tilt of his head backwards towards the yard.

"Oh, relax," Catherine said, looking past him and out the window. "She is not misbehaving or doing anything inappropriate. She's just –"

"Flirting with Josh," Steve finished for her, shutting his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the image of his daughter being all touchy-feely with her 'friend'. He continued, sounding very grumpy. "There are how many boys here – several of whom have tried to flirt with her – and the only one she flirts with is him."

Catherine had to stifle a laugh. She wrapped her arms around his neck, using her thumbs to massage the back of his neck. "So you're telling me that you would rather she was flirting with every boy here?"

He groaned. "I'd rather she not flirt at all." He frowned when Catherine started laughing. "It's not funny," he argued as he attempted to push past her.

Catherine placed a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him back against the counter. "Relax, will you? And stop being so grumpy." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're cuter when you're not being a grump." She pulled his head down to hers, bringing their lips together. He deepened the kiss, only pulling away when he needed air.

Breathing heavy, he said, "I'm sorry." He rested his forehead against hers. "It's just… I…" he trailed off, not quite able to articulate what he was feeling at the moment.

"You're having a hard time with the fact that your little girl, who used to only want to be around two men, both of whom she was related to, is now interested in another male," Catherine finished for him. "I get it, Steve. You don't like that your little girl isn't so little anymore." She ran her fingers through the curly hair at the nape of his neck before starting to massage his neck again.

"It's not so much the fact that she's growing up," he argued gently. "It's everything that goes along with growing up, especially when she only is interested in flirting with one boy."

Catherine shrugged. "It could be worse. She could have chosen a 'bad boy' instead of a good kid like Josh."

"It doesn't matter what kind of boy it is," Steve argued, sounding more and more like a ranting Danny with every word he said. "If a girl is only interested in one boy it's only going to lead to a serious relationship. It will lead to lots of kissing and that will only lead to one thing that she doesn't need to experience until she's married."

"No sex before marriage, huh?" Catherine said, leaning back to get a better read on his face. With an amused expression on her face, she asked, "Is that some new McGarrett house rule that I need to become familiar with?"

Understanding her meaning, Steve pulled her flush against him. Giving into a smirk, he replied, "That rule doesn't apply to us, Lieutenant." _I'll prove that to you as soon as I can_. He kissed her and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's not even that I expect her to actually wait until then but I just… I don't want her to end up like me."

"End up like you?" Catherine ran her eyes up and down his body. "Correct me if I'm wrong but, besides getting hurt on a near daily basis and your obvious Mommy issues, I don't think you ended up so bad."

He gave into a smile. "Thanks," he said, rolling his eyes at her Mommy comment. He dropped his arms from around her, crossing them in front of his chest. "I don't regret having her – I never will regret having her – but I want things to be better for her. I want her to finish college, fall in love, and get married _before_ having a child. Being a single parent is hard and I don't want her to have to go through all of that. If she gets that serious with a boy – with Josh – then there's a good chance she will follow in my footsteps in that regard and I don't want that for her."

"Well, yeah," Catherine said, resting her hands on his arms. "That is…" she trailed off, deciding that Steve really did not need to hear a joke at this moment. "Look, Babe, do you really think Alex would take that chance?" She had come to port four days ago, having been surprised to spot Steve and Alex waiting with the rest of the families. Since then, she had spent the time that Alex was at school and Steve at work packing up her apartment in preparations for the upcoming move into the house she would be renting beginning on the first of June. She had picked Alex up from school and brought her back to the house where she had helped the teenager study for her upcoming exams. Once Steve got home, the three of them had dinner together and then she ended up spending each night in Steve's bed, even on the night he had been called to a case at one in the morning. Last night, Friday night, during dinner, Alex had told her all about her plans to attend the Naval Academy and then had asked for her advice about pursuing a career in linguistics, intelligence, or cryptology. She had been surprised – although she couldn't quite figure out why – to learn of Alex's desire to follow in her dad's footsteps and it had warmed her heart to see how proud and excited Steve had been at the announcement. "I mean, wasn't it just yesterday that the three of us talked about her plans to go to the Academy?"

"We did," Steve acknowledged with a nod of his head. "And she talked about it with me a couple of times before then and we talked about it with her NJROTC instructor."

"Exactly," Catherine said, "She is very committed to doing what she has to in order to reach her goals. I honestly don't see her doing anything that would jeopardize that. Do you?"

"No, I don't," he answered. If there was one thing that his daughter had always been consistent with it was that once she set her mind on doing something she worked like hell to achieve it. That had been so true with so many things. Yet, he also knew that all it took was one moment – even if chemoprophylaxis was being used – of not using a condom for life to change so drastically. "I –" He was interrupted by the sound of his daughter's voice calling for him. "In the kitchen, Sweetheart."

When Alex stepped inside the kitchen, she greeted them and then said, "The boys want to start a game of football and they are pretty much demanding that both you and Chin play with them."

"Your friends want to spend time with me?"

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, totally lame, right?" she joked, giving into a laugh. "Just kidding." She shrugged again. "Apparently Josh showed them some of the videos from when you played for Kukui High. They think you're some, like, football god or something."

"Where did Josh get a copy of my games?"

Alex shrugged. "So you gonna play or what?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright," Alex said, turning around to head out of the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway, wondering if she was interpreting her dad's behavior from earlier and the current look in his eyes correctly. Turning around, she walked up to him and hugged him. "You know that just because I'm growing up doesn't mean I'm not your little girl anymore, right? I mean, obviously you can't treat me like a five-year-old anymore but I'll always be your child and I'll always need you. 'Kay?"

Steve caught Catherine's eye and smiled. Pulling her in to join their hug, he dropped a kiss to Alex's head. "Okay." Releasing both of them, he said, "Let's go rejoin your party."

* * *

"You girls have fun," Steve said, slinging his overnight bag over his shoulder.

"Thanks, Mr. McGarrett." A chorus of eight feminine voices rang out from all corners of the living room. The boys had left the party about an hour ago – Josh had, of course, been the last one to leave and only after hugging Alex – and, immediately afterwards, the furniture had been pushed to the sides of the room, leaving a large open space in the middle of the room where sleeping bags were currently being rolled out.

"Thanks, Dad," Alex said, hugging him briefly before letting go. "See you tomorrow."

"Love you, Sweetheart," he told her, before walking over to Catherine and giving her a peck on the lips. "Love you, too," he said quietly, "and thanks again." He patted his thigh, getting the dog's attention. "C'mon, Anchor."

"Anytime, Sailor," Catherine said, kissing him chastely again. "Have a good night. See you tomorrow for breakfast." With a smile on her face, she watched him leave with the dog padding along after him. After waiting a few minutes – the time it would take him to get to his truck and out of the driveway – she turned towards Alex and smiled. "Okay, ladies," she said, drawing the girls' attention to her. "We have two pedicure foot baths that we'll set up in the dining room. There are a couple of pedicure kits as well. Alex and I also made up a home facial mask; there's enough for all of us. We have stuff for manicures and lots of different nail polishes to choose from." At this time, Alex held up a see-through bag full of at least twenty different nail polishes. Excited murmurs filled the room; three girls rushed over to the bag and started searching for the perfect color.

Catherine then stepped over to the closet under the stairs and opened it, pulling out a large Sephora bag. "And, as a final surprise, I also stocked up on a lot of makeup to do makeovers on whoever wants one. You can give each other makeovers or I can, whatever you prefer."

"But," Alex said, taking a few steps closer to her. "Dad said –"

"I know what he said," Catherine told her, a smile on her face. "But he's not here, is he?" She understood Steve not wanting Alex to wear makeup at her age; she respected that decision of his. Yet, this was a spa-themed birthday sleepover and, although several of the girls had come to the party wearing makeup, it wasn't like Alex, or any of the girls for that matter, would be going out in public with makeup on.

"Come on, Alex," Tracy said, joining her friend near Catherine as the rest of the girls started setting up the different spa stations. "It's your birthday and he's not here. Catherine's in charge and he can't ground you for –"

"If you don't want to…" Catherine said, swinging the bag back and forth in a tempting way.

Alex laughed, reaching for the bag. "Of course I want to." She peered inside the bag, taking in the overwhelming amount of eye shadow, mascara, lipstick, blush, and other varieties of makeup. "I don't really know how to apply all this stuff." She stepped closer to Catherine, lowering her voice so that only she and Tracy could hear. "My mom never showed me how to put makeup on. Can you show me how?"

"Of course I can," Catherine told her. "Let's get everything else set up for your friends and then we'll have some fun with all this stuff."

* * *

"Your mom is so cool."

Alex, along with Tracy and five others, stopped in mid-motion to look at Juliette, a classmate who had only been at their school for a few weeks. Alex had never really spent any time with her outside of class but had invited her to her party as a way of getting to know her better and to help Juliette with making friends. Tracy spoke up. "Catherine's not her mom." Even though no one there other than Tracy knew the story about Alex's mom – even Tracy didn't know that much of it – they all had known that Catherine was just her dad's girlfriend.

"Oh." Juliette looked really uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I just assumed she was."

"Didn't you hear Alex call her Catherine?" Emily asked. The kind smile on her face made up for the slight bitterness in her words.

"Well, yeah," Juliette admitted. She gave into a shrug. "I thought maybe Alex was like Chris Tierney," she said, referring to a mutual classmate of theirs. "He calls both of his parents by their first names."

"Okay," Emily replied, sliding the rest of the way into her sleeping bag. "Good point." The room grew quiet, save for the sound of sleeping bags being zipped closed and the light switch being flipped to the off position.

"She's really not your Mom?" Juliette asked. It would just be so hard to believe that Catherine was not Alex's mom; from the first second she spotted them interacting, Catherine had been so mom-like.

"Nope," Alex said, memories of her mother flashing in her mind. "My mom's dead." Several hushed gasps filled the air.

"Oh, Alex," Juliette said. If the light had still been on, everyone would see the tears forming in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay," Alex said, rolling over onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. "The only one here right now who did know was Tracy." She hadn't publicized the news of her mom's death. She hadn't wanted the sympathy plus it had been an extremely private matter that she felt she had only needed to share with her closest friends. "Besides, my mom and I weren't that close." Not that it mattered; her mom was still her mom and it had still hurt like hell when her dad had told her she had died.

The room grew quiet. No one knew what to say. Finally, Audrey, usually the most vocal of all of them, asked, "When did she – when did it happen?"

"February," Alex replied, forcing herself to choke back the sob that threatened to let loose from her mouth. She took a deep breath to calm herself and blinked away the tears. Steadying her voice so it did not come across as rude, she added, "I'm sorry but I don't want to talk about how it happened."

The room grew quiet again for several minutes before Tracy spoke up in an attempt to change the mood of the room. "Why did you think Catherine was her mom?" Even though she didn't say much to any of them for the next half hour that they were awake, Alex was also curious to hear the answer to her good friend's question.

"Well, for one," Juliette replied, her voice ringing out across the open room. "Even before you had the makeup on she had called you beautiful and you could just hear by the way she said it that she said it with love."

"Yeah," Charlotte spoke up. "And then after you had the makeup on, she called you beautiful again and her eyes just seemed to light up."

"Plus," Samantha said, "Even though your Dad said no makeup allowed, she went behind his back to give you an even better birthday party." Her sentiments were echoed by Carolyn and Emily.

Audrey went along a different route. "I'll admit that, even though I knew she wasn't your mom, I kind of got the vibe, just by watching you two during the party, that she loves you the way my Mom loves me. I can't really explain it but you can just tell by the way she talks to you and looks at you."

The only thing Alex could bring herself to say was, "I don't know." Yet her mind was working overtime, wondering if it was possible that Catherine could one day love her like a daughter. Not that she would ever be able to know when Catherine was being motherly; her own experience with a mother had been on the completely opposite end of the spectrum. She wasn't sure she would be able to recognize it if – when – Catherine acted that way towards her. As her friends soon started talking about the boys who had attended the party – they, of course, had teased Alex about Josh – she started to try to think objectively about the way Catherine treated her. She wasn't sure Catherine treated her any differently than Mrs. Boyer ever had or the way Kono did; did that mean all three of them viewed her as a daughter? The wheels in her head kept spinning as the voices of her friends slowly died down to a quiet, sleepy lull. Then, right when she thought everyone had fallen asleep, Tracy's voice drifted over to her in a whisper.

"They're kind of right, you know. I think Catherine does sort of look at you like a daughter; I can see why Juliette thought she was your Mom."

"What do you mean?" Alex whispered back.

"Well, first, Catherine always spends a lot of her leave time with you, doesn't she? Secondly, she actually cares about your interests and enjoys exploring those with you. Third, she likes doing stuff that she knows will make you happy. And isn't she also the only adult who knows that you've kissed Josh? Plus, didn't you say that she's reprimanded you before when you've done something wrong?" Tracy shrugged within the confines of her sleeping bag. "Sounds like a Mom to me."

When Tracy rolled over, rearranging her pillow before settling in for the night, Alex rolled over on her side, facing the window that overlooked the front yard. With the moonlight in the background, she watched the tree limbs out front sway gently in the breeze. She lay there for quite awhile, unable to shut her mind off. Her head was full of so many thoughts as she mulled over everything her friends had said to her. Hearing the pattern of breathing associated with sleep coming from all of her friends, Alex sighed quietly and looked at the digital clock on the end table. 2:45. Alex rolled over onto her stomach and glanced upstairs where her dad's bedroom was located. His bedroom door was ajar and, from within, she could see subtle changes of lighting that told her the television was turned on. Quietly getting out of her sleeping bag, she tiptoed over and around her sleeping friends and climbed the stairs. Reaching her dad's bedroom, she quietly and slowly pushed open the door. The TV was on but muted; Catherine was lying on her side presumably asleep. Alex started to step backwards out of the room.

"I'm awake," Catherine told her, rolling over onto her back and scooting higher up on her pillow. "Everything okay downstairs?"

Alex nodded. "Everyone's asleep," she whispered. "Can I –"

"Of course," Catherine said, sitting up and patting the spot on the bed next to her. "Come on."

Alex closed the door behind her and walked to her dad's side of the bed, stopping to pull one of his t-shirts out of his dresser first. Pulling the t-shirt on over her head, she climbed into the bed, sliding under the covers and snuggling up next to Catherine. A little surprised by Alex's show of affection – hugging was one thing but she had never just curled up in bed next to her – and by her wearing Steve's shirt – he had told her that Alex usually wore his clothes when something was bothering her – Catherine studied the teenager for several long seconds. "You okay?"

Alex nodded, her eyes focused on the television screen. "Is this _Ghost_?"

"Yeah," Catherine said with her eyes still on the teenager.

"I've never seen the whole movie," Alex commented. That movie had only come out seven years before she was even born. She shifted her eyes to look at Catherine. "You never get to watch romantic, chick flicks with my Dad, do you?"

Catherine laughed. "I don't think your Dad has ever watched anything that didn't involve weapons of some sort."

Alex laughed. "Yeah, he loves action movies; the greater variety of weapons and the more explosions, the better." Turning serious, she said, "He used to watch Disney princess movies with me all the time."

The melancholic tone in her voice told Catherine that definitely was something worrisome occupying Alex's mind. "Did something happen after I left you all alone earlier?" Noting the hesitant expression in Alex's eyes, she added, "I know something is bugging you. What's wrong?"

It took Alex a couple of minutes to respond; she was grateful for how patient Catherine was being. "They asked about my Mom." Alex's eyes drifted downward and she started to fiddle with a piece of thread that had come loose from the stitching on the bedspread. "Tracy's the only one that knew about my mom dying."

"That's tough," Catherine said, running her fingers through Alex's straight hair. "That brought up a lot of memories."

Alex shook her head. "I guess." She turned her head, looking at Catherine. "Thing is: I barely thought about her at all today." She gave into an uneasy and ashamed laugh. "Makes me a pretty lousy daughter to not even think about my mom on the day we are celebrating my birthday."

"No it doesn't, honey," Catherine said, dropping her hand to Alex's shoulders and giving her a loving squeeze. "It's just a sign that you're moving on and continuing to live your life." Alex gave her a smile – a silent, grateful gesture – before returning her attention to the still muted television. "Why don't we have a movie day some time? Just the two of us. We can watch this and whatever other movies you have wanted to see."

"Really? Cool! I'd like that." Alex gave her another smile and then, as her friends comments from earlier reverberated in her head, she reached over and grabbed a picture of her dad and Catherine off of his nightstand. She held it in her hands, looking at it for several minutes. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming to my party today," Alex answered. "And for spending all night with me and my friends. I know there were more important things you could have been doing, like packing or catching up with _your_ friends or…"

"Sure," Catherine said, interrupting her. "There were other things I could have been doing but they weren't as important as being here with you and your Dad."

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do," Catherine answered, running her hand lovingly down Alex's long brown tresses. "I like spending time with you and your Dad. Besides," she added, "didn't your Dad tell you that he's recruited you to help us pack up some of my stuff tomorrow?"

"No," Alex replied, "he failed to mention that."She thought for a moment. "Has my dad ever taken you up to the petroglyphs?"

Catherine shook her head. "No."

"Well, do you think that maybe, after we spend some time packing tomorrow, the three of us can go up there? It's beautiful up there and the hike up is a lot of fun and it's a great place to just talk."

"I'd like that," Catherine returned honestly. "We'll talk about it with your Dad later and, if not tomorrow, then maybe next weekend."

"Sounds good," Alex said, setting the picture frame back on the nightstand and climbing out of the bed. She headed to the door and, with her hand on the door knob, said, "Thanks again, Catherine. I'm really glad you're here."

* * *

When his phone rang, it took Steve several moments to steady his voice. The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins after making it out of HPD mere seconds before the bomb had exploded. Expelling a shaky breath, he answered the phone. "Hi, Sweetheart."

"Dad!" Alex's voice rang out loudly over the phone. "Are you okay? Are Chin and Danny and Kono okay? Is Officer Lukela?"

"Whoa," Steve said, recognizing the sheer terror in her rushed words. "Slow down, Sweetheart." He heard her take a deep breath and then some whispering before Josh's voice came on the line.

"Hi, Mr. McGarrett," Josh greeted. "We saw a news report about the explosion at HPD. Alex is kinda freaking out. Is everyone okay, Sir?"

"We're all okay, Josh," he replied. That, in and of itself, was a miracle. "Are you guys headed to Headquarters?" Josh had been staying with them for over a week now, due to the Army having sent Jason to American Samoa. The parents of one of Sam's friends had been willing to watch Sam for the week but, out of the parents that Jason had actually been able to contact, none were either willing or able to have Josh stay with them. As much as he did not like Alex's preference to flirt with Josh nearly incessantly, Steve had not had an issue with offering to take in Josh during Jason's absence. When it had come down to it, Jason was Steve's friend and he couldn't let him leave the island worrying about his son.

This past week, beginning on Tuesday, had been the week of final exams for the two high school students. As a result, much to Steve's immense joy, the only interaction the two had had outside of school had involved them helping each other study. On Monday, Steve had come home from work, accompanied by Catherine whom he had picked up on the way, to find his dining room table covered in notebooks and textbooks, with the two teenagers quizzing each other, from opposite ends of the table, for their Asian History exam. He and Catherine had brought home Chinese takeout for dinner so, after helping the kids clear the table, the four of them had sat down to enjoy their meal. During dinner, the kids had informed him that they would be taking nearly all of the same classes next year with the two exceptions being foreign language – Japanese for Alex; Italian for Josh – he was already fluent in Spanish – and JROTC – Army for Josh and Navy for Alex. Josh had, according to him, had a very similar talk with his dad about his intentions for college to the one he had had with Alex. Josh had told them he was very intent on attending West Point and would be visiting the campus with his dad and brother in a couple of weeks. Apart from some friendly bickering about which military academy was better, Josh and Alex had expressed that they were very supportive of each others' plans for college and had vowed to help each other throughout the remainder of their high school experience to ensure that both achieved their goal. After dinner the kids had returned to their studying; their history exam had been scheduled to begin at nine a.m., immediately followed by a two hour study period and an hour long lunch before their Chemistry exam at one o'clock.

After their exams on Tuesday, the teens had headed to Headquarters where, in a matter of minutes, they had claimed the entire conference room as their study area. They had spread out their Geometry stuff – prior homework assignments, notes, protractor and compass, textbook – as well as, for Alex, her Art History study materials, while Josh needed to study for his Economics class final. They had spent several hours engaged in studying until Steve had whisked them away to Rainbow drive-in for dinner before heading home. Once there, and once their food had settled a little bit, Steve had given them both a diagnostic physical fitness test, which both teenagers had passed with ease.

On Wednesday afternoon, Steve, once again, found the two teenagers in the conference room, where they were quizzing each other on military history for each of their respective JROTC exams. Using his vast knowledge of military history – he had studied, to satisfy his own interests, Navy, Air Force, and Army history – he had clarified a few facts for both teens. Then he had surprised them with a practice land navigation/orienteering course that he had designed which, hopefully, would help prepare them for that section of their JROTC exams. He had dropped them at their first marker – a speed limit sign located three miles from the house – and, after providing them with a map, compass, and coordinates for the rest of their points, he had headed home to cook dinner while leaving them to navigate their way home; they were required to have reached at least six of the eight points he had provided them. Of course, true to their overachieving selves, they had visited all eight points – they recorded a description and location of each marker – and made it back to the house in just over an hour. Then, after dinner, they had each sat down at the laptop to put the finishing touches on their English term papers and, after Steve reviewed and edited them, they had printed them off and placed them in their backpacks. Both kids had called it an early night, with Josh crashing on the couch as he had every other night.

Steve had picked the kids up from school on Thursday afternoon – both had had to take their NJROTC and JROTC uniforms to school that day – and he had inquired as to how their last finals had gone. Both kids had expressed confidence that they had done well on the land navigation course and with their written exams. They also had stated that they felt they had done pretty well at their drill and ceremony performance and, of course, both had completed their fitness test with the highest scores in each of their respective classes. After spending just an hour at Headquarters while he finished up some reports, they had gone to pick Catherine up from base and then he had treated all of them to dinner at the Wailana Coffee House. During dinner, Alex had brought up the money her mom had left her, again stating that she really wanted to donate it. She had told them all about how, in her weekly email from Denise, the shelter she had volunteered at in Seattle would be forced to shut down at the end of the year due to both of lack of funding and there being too many repairs that could not be fixed. In a heart-wrenching plea, Alex had asked him to please allow her to use the money to either renovate the entire building or to build a brand new facility. For Steve, having known how much the children at the shelter meant to Alex, it had been an easy choice to agree to allow her to do something charitable for Denise's shelter. He had promised to sit down with her over the weekend to figure out the best plan of action.

That morning he had dropped the teenagers off at school. Even though they were finished with their exams and really did not need to attend the last day on the school calendar, they had several meetings lined up for Heart2Heart to discuss further fundraising efforts as well as the organization's plans to travel to the other Hawaiian islands over the summer. Now that Josh was on the phone with him, Steve assumed that meant they were done for the day.

"Not yet, Sir," Josh answered. "We were in the middle of our last meeting when we saw the news report and we took a break to check on you. We should start heading your way in about half an hour."

"Okay," Steve said, glancing over at Danny. "I need to get back to work. Do me a favor, okay, Josh?"

"Of course, Sir. What do you need?"

Knowing that Danny would surely have something to say after this, Steve said, "I need you to take care of her until I meet up with you both later. Get her to calm down and keep an eye on her."

* * *

"What is _he_ doing here?"

"Be nice," Josh whispered, nudging her in the arm with his elbow.

"Nice to see you, too, Alexandra," Joe White greeted. Apparently his absence of nearly five months hadn't done anything to change her opinion of him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Alex," Steve said, the tone of his voice sending her a warning. He pointed to his office door. "Out. Now. Both of you."

She did as he said but not without sending Joe White a piercing glare. She allowed Josh to lead her down the hall and into the conference room. Not even five minutes later, her Dad stepped into the conference room, asking Josh to please go wait in the hallway. Once Josh left, her Dad took the seat next to her. Reaching over, he grabbed a hold of her chair and turned it so that she was facing him. "You probably are not going to like what I have to say but I need you to listen to me without arguing. Okay?"

"I still don't trust him, Dad," she told him, not liking the uneasy feeling that she had in her stomach. "But, okay, I will listen to what you have to say."

Steve sighed. "I know, Sweetheart. I know you don't trust Joe." He took a deep breath. "But thank you for listening." This was not going to be easy for her to hear. He had just got back from Japan a few weeks ago and, this time, he knew that she was not going to be as accepting of his need to go back there. "Listen, Sweetheart." He placed a hand over both of hers, which were clasped together on her lap. "Joe has promised to end the mystery of Shelburne. He's promised to take me to see Shelburne."

"Shelburne's a person?"

Steve nodded. "Yes and Joe says it is time for me to meet him. Shelburne is ready for me to meet him."

"Shelburne's in Japan, isn't he?" Alex asked, not caring if she was going to get in trouble for something she had done many months ago. "That's why Joe traveled to Japan all the time?"

"How do you –"

"I saw his wallet on top of your dresser," Alex admitted. "I'm guessing that you stole it."

Steve sighed, his eyes flitting momentarily towards the hallway where Joe was standing there waiting for him. "Yes, I need to go back to Japan with Joe."

Alex knew she couldn't keep her dad from going – she could tell by the look in his eyes that he needed to do this – he needed answers – so she didn't bother trying. "Will it be safe?"

"Joe assures me it will be."

Alex studied her dad's face for a few moments. A strange feeling overtook her; it told her that her dad might not like what he would be finding out in Japan. "Well, could you at least make sure you have a gun or a knife on you? I know you trust Joe but I really don't. Can you please just make sure you're safe?"

"I will," Steve told her, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. "I promise."

* * *

As he approached the door to the house in the little fisherman's village, Steve took a deep breath, wondering how whatever awaited inside would change his and his daughter's lives. He stopped outside of the door and knocked. Glancing back, he found that Joe had vanished from the spot where he had previously stood. He was now left alone to face whoever was on the other side of the door. A small patch of light gradually became larger as the door opened inward. In an instant, Steve felt all of the breath leave his body; he was looking at the face of a person who was supposed to have died twenty years ago. "Mom?"


End file.
